A Season of Grace and Charm
by Aunt Flora
Summary: Unfortunately for Rhett, the Panic of 1873 strikes and he's invested too much to let Scarlett go down in ruin. Then life gets complicated.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

The dank mists of two weeks before had given way to bright sunshine. The road was in good condition; not muddy, but damp enough that there was none of the red dust that could clog a man's eyes and nose all summer. Mounds of cherokee rose bushes forlornly dotted some of the household yards, while stands of adolescent pine filled fields that had once held cash crops. Tall magnolia trees were in the process of dropping their last cones full of bright berries, but every so often there was a hint of some sturdy hidden late jasmine on the breath of a light breeze.

None of that was noticed by the man riding his horse from Atlanta to Marietta in early November of 1873. His clothes had fit better in other days, but they were well-tailored. His horse was well taken care of, and the tack was as good as any, better than most. Yet there was something shabby or tired about horse and rider, something that wasn't what it might have been.

The rider had chosen the ride rather than the train because the train had already left and this couldn't wait until tomorrow, and the trip by rail was not much shorter. He cursed himself for caring enough to do this, but it wasn't just the proximate issue, he told himself. It wasn't just her. It was her family, and it was a wider community, which he had learned had even contained his own family for a time. There was some sort of principle or ideal about a woman who was mean and cruel and selfish and yet did so much for so many people who disapproved of her. He had once been her greatest champion; now he aligned himself with the others and in order to help them he must help her.

He reached the town and slowed in order to orient himself. She might be at the hotel. He decided to start there and to leave his horse. He was told that she was in meetings at the bank and tried them both. One was shuttered, and he hoped he wasn't too late as he turned down the street toward the other.

She was on the porch of the bank, shaking hands with two gentlemen. Her business must be successfully concluded. Although he knew it was quite expensive, there was nothing outstanding about her black dress. It was as narrow as Godey's dictated in front and on the sides, but under the bustle was none of the nonsense that so many women, including this one, usually had. No birds' cages or flowers, and not even ruffles or lace were on this dress, just some smart pleats brought the skirt around the protuberance and down to the floor. Her hair was simply held in its net snood, and she wore a simple, almost masculine, hat with just a single feather to adorn it. She had come to do business, and the look on her face was all business as well. How many times in the past had he enjoyed destroying that well-polished demeanor?

The coquettish simper he'd known was instead changed to her business face. There was something flirtatious about it, for she couldn't stop flirting any more than she could stop breathing. At the moment, though, for the most part her face indicated quiet intelligence. She was always listening and watching, and always looking for a way to maximize her own return. To be fair, if she could find a way to maximize her own return and that of the person she worked with, she took a joy in that, too.

"… You'll just have to come down to Atlanta some time," she was saying. "I won't take no for an answer. There are many things we could work on together, Mr. Cobb." She turned and saw him, and he watched her face light up. "Rhett."

It was said in a breathy whisper. For the merest instant, the thought of the last time he'd seen that look on her face, heard his own name said in that way. It was everything he could want until he remembered what had almost immediately followed. He started to scowl, but then she lost her footing on the step. It was too much like the other occasion. He had to run forward at that point.

"Too easily distracted," he whispered, as he caught her and set her on her feet. "I need to talk to you Scarlett," he said in an undertone.

"Are you all right there, Mrs. Butler?"

Scarlett's face went from joy to concern and then back to business as she twisted around. He knew a flash of pride that she could recover her demeanor as quickly as her footing despite himself. "Oh, Mr. Cobb! Captain Butler was saying I was distracted, and so I was by how I let you put one over on me."

"Why Mrs. Butler—"

"You're just going to have to come down to Atlanta next time we do business so I can even the playing field."

Rhett squeezed her elbow. "It's important."

She patted his hand to quiet him. It was an old signal they'd used in the past, signifying that she was almost done with the current conversation and would attend his issue momentarily.

"Mr. Cobb, I'd like to introduce you to Captain Rhett Butler. Rhett, this is Mr. Horatio Cobb."

Rhett nodded as Mr. Cobb said, "Captain Butler, it's a pleasure. Please don't send your wife up here by herself any more. Despite what she says, she's talked me out of one of my prized possessions. I've dearly loved that mill."

Rhett chuckled. "She has that ability, sir."

"You two will dine with my family today," said Mr. Cobb.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Mr. Cobb," Rhett said, shifting his hat between his hands to convey apology. "I'm afraid there is urgent business in Atlanta that cannot wait. I didn't even dare wait for the train to bring me." He turned to his wife. "I left my horse at your hotel. I'll walk you over."

Scarlett turned to Mr. Cobb. "I'm sorry, but I've learned that if my husband says it's important, it truly requires my attention."

"I understand, and far be it from me to get between a husband and wife." Cobb chuckled patronizingly. "Next time, then, Mrs. Butler? You'll be in town regularly to get the mill open and keep an eye on things, of course."

"Yes, indeed," Scarlett said, and the farewells were quickly concluded.

"God's nightgown, Rhett!" she said quietly to him as they were on their way. "This is an odd way to keep the talk down."

Before she had a chance to draw breath and say anything more, he stopped in a quiet spot and faced her. "Where is your cash?"

" _That's_ what you wanted to see me about? Most of it is invested. You know that, and you know how I have it set up. It hasn't changed since my accident."

He winced. That had been his fault, and he'd looked over her holdings and managed her businesses while she recovered to atone. Perhaps that's why he was here today. "Yes, I do know how you've managed your money. I mean your cash. Is it deposited in the bank?"

She evaded his eyes. "Some of it. But with the way the panic has gone, I couldn't stand to leave it there."

"Let me guess, you have it stashed around the house."

"Not exactly. I did that at Aunt Pittypat's, and then Frank found it and took it from me."

Something within him that shouldn't have cared was irritated at the thought of being lumped with her other husband. "Scarlett, you know I would never do that."

"I know that, Rhett. You're more honest and altogether a better husband than either of the other two." She looked up at him with the expression of hopeful adoration that he'd only seen twice so far and had already started to hate.

He looked skyward to avoid her eyes. "We're not going down that road of discussion. We are, however, going down the road to Atlanta. I suspect there will be a run."

Scarlett grabbed his arm. "Oh, Rhett, what's to be done?"

"We can talk about it on the way. When is the next train, or would you rather ride?"

There was time before the next train for Scarlett to give Prissy directions to pack the children and take them to Tara, as had been planned. She and Rhett would go to Atlanta and stay over night there. She would continue on to Tara tomorrow or the day after at the latest. Then she and the children could have some weeks of rest. If he was fair to her, he could admit she deserved it. She'd been all over town making sure that the plans for Melanie's funeral had been made by the Wilkes family, covering balances where necessary with various tradesmen. Then she had stayed near the outskirts of the family, looking content whenever the arrangements were complimented. Rhett wondered at how she managed to change her conduct so quickly. It wasn't the Scarlett he was used to. On the other hand, it wasn't entirely unlike her, either. It was a situation that bore watching.

"What do you suggest I do?" she asked, once they had found a private spot on the train. They didn't want to openly speak of the situation for fear it would precipitate the very thing they were hoping to avoid.

"Can you invest most of it?" he asked. "If you have enough to live on for a few months at the house or otherwise stashed away, you could invest most of your savings account through the bank. The investment would be safe enough, even if the bank fails entirely and you lose the savings you leave there."

"But Rhett, why would I leave any?"

"The bank needs cash in order to function. They're going to have to post bad results tomorrow, which will more than likely destroy confidence. If they can manage to pull through the next week, your money will be safe enough."

"Can they pull through?"

"Yes, I believe they can, although it will be difficult for a while."

"So you are suggesting that I leave them my money in charity?" This was more the Scarlett he was used to."

"If all of their cash in hand is depleted, they will have to close their doors, perhaps permanently. Then everyone in town loses their money."

She considered this for a moment. Then she nodded her head. "What are you investing in?"

Rhett laid out some changes he was making. There was a railroad that would come through the panic unscathed eventually, and there were some new industries that he thought might be important someday. Scarlett agreed with him. "Those won't work for me, though, will they? I need my money to work better in the shorter term." She thought a moment. "There are some changes I could make, though. What do you think of textiles and food-related investments?"

As she described what she envisioned, Rhett nodded his head. "Those are industries that will need to keep growing even with money tight." She smiled, a little uncertainly.

They were quiet for a while, and Scarlet leaned back to doze a little. He took the opportunity to look at her. There was something almost fragile about her. She'd lost weight. He understood why when the boys came through selling sandwiches and she quietly shook her head.

"You're not eating." It came out harsher than he intended. She cringed.

She shook her head. "I don't guess I've been very hungry."

She turned away, looking out the window. The conversation, for now, was over.

Several hours later, they left the bank in Atlanta. The directors there had come to take care of Scarlett and Rhett personally. They had said little, but gravely nodded when they heard what was wanted. There was an almost audible sigh of relief when the transactions were complete. The bank had feared that they would lose two of their biggest customers and with them all hope of solid footing. Rhett accompanied Scarlett to the store. She showed him how she had placed her cash. "Goodness knows I won't be laid up with a miscarriage any time soon, but if for any reason you need to access it because I cannot, I want you to know how it's situated."

Rhett managed to look at her without wincing. "I'm not sure if the roles were reversed I would trust you so much, Scarlett."

She sighed. "I'm sure you have other people you can trust. I have no one but you."

"Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?"

"Fiddle dee dee, Rhett! Call it 'pity' if you like. Or 'kindness' if you prefer. Aren't those the two things you said you feel for me?"

Sometimes she surprised him. It was hard not to react to her throwing his own words back at him. He couldn't decide between surprise or annoyance and was able to keep his face straight.

She looked at him and then shrugged before saying, "Call it whatever you like. I'm just stating the fact."

 _A/N: This is not my first fanfic, but it is under this name. I'm putting my toe in the water to see how it goes._


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

They ate their supper initially quietly, each lost in thought. Rhett kept a decanter on the table, but was less interested in it than usual. He kept looking at it and frowning, then getting up to switch to a different decanter containing something else. Nothing suited him tonight. Scarlett was picking at her food. In the dim light she looked more than fragile. She looked frail, almost like Melanie had those last few years. He knew a moment of fear and then told himself it wasn't important.

"Please eat something."

"I'm not that hungry."

"You've gotten so thin. It's not healthy."

"Always criticism from you." She sighed and picked up her fork. "Do you even care?"

He sighed and looked at his drink. It was still the wrong one, but he drank it anyway before getting up to see what else he had. He selected a bourbon, mainly because it was the only one on the sideboard that he hadn't tried yet. Returning to the table, he drained his water glass and stared at it in surprise.

"Why a calico mill?" he asked, by way of attempting conversation.

"The panic," she responded. "I'd heard it could be had for a good price because the owner needs cash, so I was in Marietta looking over the mill when you sent me that telegram, which you would have known if you had cared to ask. I was up there the last two days finalizing the contract."

"If people don't have money, they won't be buying piece goods."

Scarlett shuddered. "The only reason they didn't at the end of the war is there wasn't any. They will buy the less expensive ones, and meanwhile, I need to get the best price for Tara's cotton."

"You can't sell cotton directly to the mills; it has to be ginned."

"I'm looking at a few places." She stabbed at her food and ate a bite. "There are a couple that haven't been re-opened since Sherman came."

Rhett found himself chuckling. "I have the smartest wife in the whole damn state." He wished he could appreciate that fact. Her fork fell with a clatter. He looked up and saw that she looked devastated. "Whatever is the matter, Mrs. Butler?"

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Have a wife." She looked toward the kitchen door. "You offered me a divorce when Melly died and then said at—at the funeral—that you thought a divorce might be the best option."

He shifted in his seat in consternation. "I wanted to see how you would react. You took it very well, I thought. As though you thought the idea had merit."

"You ambushed me. I could hardly scratch your eyes out there, in front of the entire town. It wouldn't have been right, and they would have overheard, and I would never have recovered from the scandal."

She didn't want a divorce. One way or another he could use that fact to his advantage. He leaned toward her for effect, since she was at the other end of a table built for sixteen. "Since when have you cared about what's right?"

"Since the day Ellen O'Hara became my mother."

He scoffed. "Really?"

She looked directly in his eyes, her own a placid green that belied the deep breaths she was obviously taking to control herself. "Some times I haven't been able to worry about what people think, and couldn't afford to worry about what Mother would say so long as we could just get through. And then after we got married a sort of madness took over me—and you encouraged it, Rhett—to thumb my nose at everyone. No one is hungry or about to be turned out of their house over this. Talk of a divorce at the funeral would have shamed Melly. It would have proved to all of them that you're right, that I'm no lady."

"Do you honestly think there's any question on that score?"

"Perhaps not," she said quietly. "At any rate, you would have simply been impossible over it, so we would have created a public scene for nothing."

He'd never credited her with having even that much insight. He frowned at the decanter of bourbon. Nothing tasted right, but somehow he had managed to consume enough alcohol to ease the pain in his head and heart.

"So, just here with the two of us, do you have an opinion about divorce?" He could guess the answer, but for some reason wanted to hear it, or maybe he wanted to hear the agony in her voice.

Her fork clattered again.

"Well?"

She looked at her plate, and at the food that she'd managed to splatter onto the otherwise pristine tablecloth. "I don't want it." Her voice was small and defeated and it didn't give him as much pleasure as he had expected.

"Surely you admit that our marriage is a fiasco, a farce."

She looked at him, her eyes smoldering. "I'll admit that our marriage has difficulties. Perhaps there were even false pretenses from the beginning. After all, you never told me what you were looking for, never let me see where things really stood. Now that I understand it better, you won't even let me show you what I really think and feel."

"Neither of us came into this marriage in the right way."

She stood up at that. "I was completely honest. I could never be otherwise with you because you always see through me. You knew exactly what you were getting. You, on the other hand, lied about everything, especially what you expected of me, and then goaded and belittled me whenever I didn't get it right. And how could I?" Bright pink patches were on her cheeks.

He was standing too by now, more than a little angry himself. She had him dead to rights, but he managed to narrow his anger down to one small point he could fairly make. "If you had any natural feelings of love… or compassion… perhaps you could have sussed it out."

"I did… eventually." She was trembling. If he touched her, she might shatter. He couldn't let it matter.

He walked around the table to grab her arm. "It took you too damned long."

"I know." She pulled away and rang for the table to be cleared. Then she slipped into the parlor.

He brought the bourbon, not sure why, and followed her. He poured her a splash of brandy. She frowned at it but took some. Then she set the glass on the coffee table and put her hand over her mouth.

She sat down on her favorite divan. In times past, she had ruled her domain from that piece of furniture, but today it looked as though it might swallow her. Her hands were clenched; from the white lace he saw in her left hand, he knew she had her handkerchief in it. Perversely, he didn't want her to cry. He just couldn't ever get away from the desire to goad her. It had always taken so much effort before. If he'd known he could do it by being indifferent he might have saved himself much trouble. Even so, there had been long moments on the train, extended to hours in the bank, when they had got on well together today. They had always worked well together. For the sake of that occasional partnership, he reached for a gentler voice.

"Well?"

She took a deep trembling breath, opened her mouth, shook her head, then breathed it out and back in. She looked him in the eye. "Well, what?"

"Should I decide divorce is necessary and find a way to get it myself, what will you do?"

"If you feel you must have it, Rhett, I be able to won't stand in your way. I know there are places a husband can get an incontestable divorce."

"You're young. You can have other husbands."

"You must be joking. You know what it will do to me, and to the children. No gentleman of Atlanta would have me, still less from Charleston or Savannah."

"You've thought about it."

"Yes, I've thought of little else. What's to become of me if Rhett leaves me, and what if he takes even his name from me." She finished her brandy. "I'll have to move to Texas, I think. I've heard divorced women go there. I doubt I'll find another husband, but at least the children wouldn't have to bear quite so much shame, being among others with such mothers."

He almost lost the mouthful of bourbon he'd just taken. "Whatever would you do in Texas, Mrs. Butler?"

She looked at him wryly. It interested him because he'd never seen it before. "If you'd divorced me, Rhett, it would be Miss O'Hara, or perhaps Mrs. Kennedy. It's not something I need to think about at this time."

He set the bourbon down entirely. He would choke to death if she said anything else so surprising.

"They grow cotton in Texas," she observed. "It's different cotton, but still cotton. I daresay I could make a go of a farm there. It couldn't be what Tara is to me, but I've heard parts of Texas have a charm of their own."

"And, as you say many divorcees. You'll have competition when you get there."

"I'll think of that some other time. I may never marry again. I only tried to get one man as a husband, and that failed. The others sort of happened to me."

Putting his glass down had been a good decision. He stared at her a minute again. She was clearly exhausted and worn down, and yet the set of her chin reminded him of the Scarlett O'Hara he'd met twelve and a half years before. He had to admire her ability to plan and work her way out of a problem, even when the crisis at hand laid her low.

They walked up the stairs together. He decided he couldn't go to Belle's although he'd been staying there for the last two weeks. That worthy lady had been angry with him for going to Marietta today, not understanding how he could want to help Scarlett. Usually she would simply accept what he did, but since Melanie's death, Belle had somehow managed to even things between them and he no longer fully held the upper hand with her.

He stood at the door to his room but couldn't enter. He'd been in that room when Mrs. Wilkes had come to comfort and encourage him when Scarlett had been so ill. He'd cried into her lap like one of the children. And then when Bonnie had—he still couldn't even think the word—Melanie had been the one to bring him back toward life. The sob came so quickly he couldn't hide it.

Scarlett had been standing in her own doorway, but now she walked quietly toward him. "Rhett?" she said gently. She put her hand on his arm and looked up into his eyes with something that resembled concern.

"She helped me in my room… when I was going to pieces, she helped me. She sat on that chair and soothed me as if I was one of the children."

Scarlett gently put an arm around him and led him toward her own bedroom. She chuckled mirthlessly. "It's a bit odd, Captain Butler, given all that you've accused me of, that a woman— _that_ woman who never did a single thing wrong in her life—has been in your bedroom in this house, but no man other than you or the doctor has ever crossed _my_ threshold."

She lit the bedside lamp and pulled him onto the bed with her. Then she pulled his head into her embrace and patted and smoothed it as though he were Bonnie or Ella. She was a little stiff, but it was oddly comforting. "Talk to me," she said. "I miss her too."

He pulled his head back. "The hell you do."

She sighed and pulled him back. "I know that I openly despised her. I spent a lot of time wishing I could scrape her away from me and find any way to get her away from Ashley, but there were times I depended upon her. You've often pointed that out. You know that she stood up for me after that bazaar when my mourning for Charlie abruptly ended. You know that she stood up for me against India all those times. You can only guess just how brave she was when Beau was born, and when I shot that Yankee, she got out of her sickbed, too weak to help but anxious to give me a hand."

He smiled at Scarlett's reminisces and relaxed into her arms. It must have been a jarring realization when she knew that she admired the woman she hated. "She made me feel like I was as great a gentleman as she was a lady."

Scarlett was running her hands over his head and shoulders in a way that was sweet. Every so often, she dropped a kiss on his head. Following an odd whim, when knew she was leaning down again, he tilted his head back and captured her lips with his own. Scarlet moaned into his mouth and as his arms went around her waist her hands stopped patting him gently and moved down to his neck. He pulled away and looked up into her eyes. If she was giving him that hopeful look he would—but no, there was nothing but passion and desire and something else he refused to name in her eyes. He sat up and pulled her close.

 _A/N: My goodness, if I'd known how much love this fandom gets I'd have written here ages ago! Thank you to_ **gabyhyatt, Lov, rhett's love, Love 1 & 2, Guest 1 & 2 & 3 & 4 & 5 & 6, Truckee Gal, and Twilighternproud, **_Thank you so much for the questions you've given me. This was started as a very late entry in Nanowrimo, and responding to a couple of points has added a couple of hundred words to this chapter alone! For those keeping score at home, this chapter plus the first are fewer than 5k words of actual story text, and I have over 30k as of this moment, so there's plenty yet to see, even if I hit a major stumbling block tomorrow._


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

 _Forward: I'd like to make a couple of notes about the world I'm using here. It's straight book, and ignores both_ _Scarlett_ _and_ _Rhett Butler's People_ _, which are both worthy works but really, fanfiction themselves. I'm also ignoring the movie a little bit. Clark Gable's Rhett Butler is the only one in so many of our minds, but when I re-read the last chapter, he completely changed the feel of it. If you leave off that snappy "Frankly," and just look at that exhausted "My dear, I don't give a damn," it really feels like Rhett has no energy to be angry, he's just done, and he's used the endearment Ashley uses every time Scarlett wears him out. It's almost like Rhett becomes Ashley at the same moment Scarlett finally figures out why she needs Melanie. It changes the complexion of how I approached this story. He doesn't want to do Scarlett ill. He can't summon the will to hate her, so he's just going to survive for however long it takes him to find what he's looking for._

 _I'm ignoring other names given to Rhett's mother. I just don't think MM would have given her a name so close to Ellen._

 _Finally, speaking of_ _Rhett Butler's People_ _, I note that Donald McCaig died recently. I'm sure our thoughts and prayers are with his family._

Some time later, he came to himself realizing that he was completely undressed and that something within him was replete. Scarlet was working his arms through an old nightshirt of his. He vaguely recalled that she had not said a word as he had worked at her fastenings. She had helped. Then she had kissed and caressed and encouraged him in every way until she had trembled in his arms, softly sighing.

"Scarlett," he said accusingly, "did we just—"

She finished the job and smoothed the shirt down his torso. "We did." She reached for her nightgown and slid it on.

"We shouldn't have."

She shrugged. "You've made it clear that women's bodies mean very little to you. Why not _my_ body? I'm a woman, even if I'm your wife, even if only for now."

He remembered saying it and damned himself for it. "Did I take precautions?" He wasn't sure whether he was worried or not. Memory came back to him of moments he would cherish for days to come."

"I think you did." He couldn't see in the dark but was sure that she was quite pink.

"Where did my nightshirt come from?"

This time he could actually feel her face get warm. "I've been keeping this one in the drawer of my nightstand. It smells like you."

He smiled. "Since I left?"

If anything, her face got even hotter. "Since a few days after we had that argument, after Bonnie was born."

He sat up at that. "You missed me, then."

"Terribly. I was such a fool, Rhett, just like you called me. I knew I had to take it back, but I couldn't figure out how."

"I don't suppose I helped at all."

"I'll admit I could never figure out how to start such a subject when you were sure to mock or ignore me."

His chuckle turned into a yawn, unable to make himself as angry as he was sure he should be that they had lost control. At least it wasn't full control, since he'd remembered to prevent a child. Scarlet tucked herself into his side as she used to long ago in her kittenish days of being his bride. He allowed himself to take the comfort she offered, a comfort he now realized he'd been longing for since so many things had happened. In the recesses of his mind, he might have heard her whisper that she loved him, and he wondered if life could offer him anything more than this moment. He vaguely recalled that he didn't want her love any longer but he was too tired to consider that question right now. He sighed in contentment and allowed the night and his sated body to relax.

A full breakfast tray greeted him the next morning. "What's this?" he groused. His head was sore. He remembered mixing his liquor.

She poured him coffee and set it on the table near him. "I thought you might want a good breakfast to set you on your way after so long a night. You still plan to leave?"

He shrugged. "Last night doesn't change anything." It couldn't. They were too fractured. and he hated things that had been broken and mended, not that this could be mended in any good way. Then, too, there had been a moment in the previous evening that had been as perfect as anything in his experience. Everything since that moment would be a disappointment. The sooner he could leave the better. He found his nightshirt and put it on. One of his dressing robes was laid across the foot of the bed. He put that on, too.

She sighed and took her coffee to a chaise she had positioned near a window. "It didn't mean anything the last time either." She looked over her shoulder at him. "Although it would have meant a great deal if you had let it."

He winced. "Cross purposes." It had actually meant a great deal for both of them he later realized, and then it meant a great deal that was wrong.

She gave a slight nod. "Yes, even now, I suppose." She frowned and opened her mouth again, thought some more, and finally said, "I don't think last night can ever be ruined the way that other night was, though."

"No?" He leaned back, interested in how she would explain herself.

"It came out of something completely different. The other time we were so angry with each other. I suppose it was natural that we should turn to anger after it even though it was beautiful when it happened. Last night, though, we were both mourning. It was comfort for each other." Now she stumbled over her thoughts and muttered, "And love, at least on my part."

He pondered it and finally said, "I can agree that it was comfort. It was somehow necessary to us, and good in and of itself. Scarlett, it's over now. You can not presume upon it, and you cannot use it to make me guilty or make any sort of claim on me."

She sipped for several moments, came back to the table to worry at some fruit, and then sat at the window again. He served himself some hominy and toast. The bacon tempted him and he took some of that, too.

"Where will you go?" she asked. He looked at her plate. She had done much better this morning than last night. Perhaps she would recover enough of her appetite with time.

"I'll head to my mother first. Then I need to look in on some things in New Orleans, and after that there's a gold mine I haven't seen since the war started."

"That will keep you busy for some time."

"The railroads go much further than they used to, of course."

"And miles are added every day."

"Indeed." He watched her get up and go to her closet. Through the open door he noticed that everything close was black. Between Bonnie and Melanie and the child they would never meet, she had lost a great deal just in the past year or two. It was easy to feel kindness and sympathy when her life of late had been so pathetic.

"What are your plans?" he asked, not sure if he should care.

"I'll go to Tara for a couple of weeks. I'm not sure it's going to help me as much as it has in the past, but Mammy is there. She will scold me and I'll be a better person for it."

His bark of a laugh surprised him, but what she said was true. "And then?"

"There will be ledgers to sort out and plans to make with Will."

Rhett couldn't suppress a smile. Gerald O'Hara might have been the owner and operator of Tara, but it was obvious to anyone who looked that Ellen had run the place, even to the point of deploying Gerald to the parts of the property where he was needed. Scarlett had arrived home on the day her mother had died and then took up her mother's position without the property missing a day of having a proper chatelaine. She had to do it remotely for much of the year, but Scarlett made sure everyone knew what was to happen, when to do it, and how. When bills on the upkeep or expansion of the place needed to be paid, Scarlett was the one who paid them.

"Then? It's back here. There are things Melanie has done for the town that must continue."

"They won't let you."

"No, but there will be ways to get those things done without them having to acknowledge me." He couldn't fault her for saying it bitterly.

"Like you did for Melanie's funeral?"

She tilted her head. As he stared she looked away. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"It comforts me that you're still a terrible liar. You should take credit for doing something good."

"Why? Even you don't see it as such. You always think I have some scheme in mind."

"Because you usually do." He grinned at her and and enjoyed watching her squirm. The fun had gone out of that pastime, however, and he moderated his tone. "Yet the fact that you did, whatever your design, it is still to your credit." He lifted his coffee cup and saluted her.

He saw her to the train station, and they ran into the Picards, who were greeting a relative coming to visit.

"Leaving town! Aren't you celebrating Thanksgiving?" Rene asked.

"Goodness, no," said Scarlett. "Not since Lincoln issued a proclamation about it."

Maybelle tipped her hat to look up from under it. "I thought you liked the Yankees and their ways."

Scarlett shrugged. "Sometimes the Yankees behave well enough, like a stopped clock that's correct two times a day. For the most part we just endured them to see what we could get from them until they leave. Now I don't see them very much any more."

Rhett raised his eyebrows at her cold description. He saw that Maybelle's eyebrows shot up even as she murmured a non-descriptive greeting and went toward the waiting room.

Scarlett and Rhett bought their tickets and parted ways. She went to Jonesboro and he took the first of his trains toward South Carolina. He settled down in his parlor car in a certain amount of contentment. Scarlett had been all that he could ask of a woman during the night, and this morning there had been no recriminations, no tears, and no sly comments. He could pride himself on having behaved himself well today, too. Yes, there had been a few comments that he'd made to her yesterday over dinner that were unnecessarily harsh, but on the whole, the entire interlude was not unpleasant. He was sanguine enough to hope that she was likewise not unhappy.

Charleston was delightfully mild when he got off the train. Rhett put his hat on and straightened his jacket before stepping off. He went through the station to see if he recognized any of the carriages. He did not, and the walk to his mother's house on the Battery was further than he wished to take at this time, so he hailed a cab.

"I don't know why you never bring your wife," said his mother after the greetings and kisses had been exchanged. "We would delight to have her, and you know Eulalie and Pauline are dying for a visit."

"Mother, she went to Tara. She's completely worn out by the events of this fall and there's something about that red mud that puts her to rights."

"I dare say there are other ways a husband might achieve that," said Rosalyn Butler acerbically.

"I dare say you are right, but really, Mother, it's none of your business."

"You sound just like your father."

Rhett spluttered. "I am nothing like my father!"

"He would just cut off whatever family member offended him, too. I watched him do it with _his_ father, with you, and with more than two or three of our people. What happens in our family is all our business, Rhett."

"You can't possibly understand, Mother," he groused.

"You haven't allowed me the opportunity to find out anything about it."

"Please, mother, I just got here after almost a full day on the train."

She kissed his cheek again, "You're right, dear. I have a dinner ready for you. Come along."

His visit seemed to revolve around the same topic, however. Rosalyn Butler was determined to meet Scarlett for more than a day and a half while a child was being laid to rest. She lobbied her point constantly. In between checking on the rice harvest and what the prices were this year, Rhett had to fend off question after question about Scarlett, her children, and how cleverly her businesses in Atlanta were being run.

He gave answers as honestly as he could while trying to stay away from controversy, but by Christmas Eve he'd had enough.

"Mother, it has to stop."

"I don't see why you would want to be away from your family on Christmas."

"That's just it, mother. I can't be with my family at Christmas this year, or ever again. Not without Bonnie."

"My dear." Rosalyn came over and ran her hands through his hair. "You know Scarlett is missing her too. This first Christmas must be terrible. You should have invited her and the children here."

He pulled away from her hand. "Mother, I asked her for a divorce."

"You what?" Rosalyn Butler was aghast.

"I didn't exactly ask. I just suggested that we might be better off with one."

"You didn't ask, you suggested? Either way, it means you want one. And that's supposed to make me relieved?"

"Maybe this will. She turned me down flat."

"Well, at least one of you has some intelligence."

"You don't know what it's like, Mother. I can't stand the arguments, the spite, the coldness."

"I well know what it's like, son. I was married to your father and received all of those things from him, just as she does from you."

"I meant _she_ gave those things to _me_! I wasn't like that!"

"You may think you're not, but Rhett, I know you. I carried you, I nursed you, I diapered you and I watched you grow up with delight. Yet you and your father were two peas in a pod. Granted, your grandfather was a bit of a reprobate, so your father rebelled against everything he stood for. We all thought that was a good thing. Then you did the same and rebelled against _your_ father, but since your father was upstanding, you chose to be a reprobate."

He was pained. "I didn't choose, mother."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't," he said in a tone of voice that sounded suspiciously like Bonnie's had.

Rosalyn's lips twitched. Clearly she thought that he had a choice and made it. Yet what choice was there? To do as his father always wished and live under his thumb forever? She wasn't letting him off. She was forcing him to take a hard look at things and would not back down even as he tried to avoid it.

"You know I bought this house," he said, not sure why he said it but thinking it would somehow be reason to turn the conversation.

"Are you going to turn me out?" She gave him a sly smile. "You know Eulalie will take me in."

Scarlett was almost the sole source of support to her aunts. If Rosalyn went to them, he would still be supporting her, but far less directly. There was no way to win with this woman except to leave.

 _A/N: I hope this answers the questions of those who thought I was reconciling them too easy! Thank you to all my reviewers, including_ _ **gabyhyatt,**_ _ **gumper, Truckee Gal**_ _ **,**_ _ **Scarlett Jaimie, Love, Romabeachgirl1981, Guest 1 & 2, **__and_ _ **Kinderby**_ _. You are all most kind._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

New Orleans was one of his favorite cities. Despite being one of the oldest in the United States, it always felt new to him. He spent several days meeting with rice-related businesses, visiting mills and plantations in that part of the country. He also met with some people to discuss the railroads. In the mood to try something he hadn't before, he spent a week researching the sugar industry. He came away wishing he had invested in that before the war started. There were one or two other businesses he discussed with the gentlemen of that city. It was several weeks after his arrival that he turned his attention to the recreations offered by the city. He enjoyed his poker and the variations of drink offered, but hit a snag when it came to the women.

The women of Louisiana were beautiful. Many of them were well-bred and learned social graces as elegant as or better than those of Charleston, far above those in Atlanta. He had many choices from among the most discriminating houses. Yet he couldn't seem to take full advantage of their offerings. He found a tall blonde to follow up the stairs at one house, as different from Scarlett as she could be. As far as he could tell, she was quite skilled at her trade. And yet, he couldn't stop thinking of Scarlett's face in the moonlit room on the night they had comforted each other. His wife had whispered his name in that breathy way that made him her slave. He realized before the blonde got his shirt unbuttoned that no prostitute would do that. Although perfectly good in many ways, no woman of the trade would tremble in his arms the way Scarlett did. He went back to his hotel alone.

After several similar nights with much in the way of stimulation and nothing of relief, he laughed at himself. It seemed a poor wife was better than none at all. Perhaps, she still felt that he might as well have her body as another woman's. If she was still making claims of love, he could get what he wanted from her, in any case. He made his way to his hotel and rang for the bell clerk. If he hurried, there was a train he could catch first thing in the morning. He wondered where he would find her. He checked the date. In early February she was likely to be in Atlanta. She had alluded to some things she would need to take care of that had previously fallen to Melanie. He wondered if she had actually done them or if she had just paid it service when she thought it would impress him.

* * *

The house on Peachtree Street was aglow when he arrived. As he went up the front walk, he saw through the windows that quite a few people were present. No doubt she was holding one of her cherished crushes with her carpetbagger friends. As he went through the door he discovered that instead of rich silks and velvets, his wife's guests wore cotton and linen and wool garments that had been patched and made over to go more seasons than they should have. "Captain Butler!" said Hugh Elsing, "This is a wonderful party sir. Thank you!" They shook hands and Rhett continued into the house.

"At least she doesn't scrimp," Mrs. Elsing was saying. Mrs. Merryweather and Mrs. Meade nodded in agreement. They caught a glimpse of him and had the grace to turn bright pink. "Captain Butler! We didn't realize you were in town," said Mrs. Meade.

"Your wife has thrown a _lovely_ party," said Mrs. Merryweather as though it was a big surprise.

"The musical interlude _was_ lovely," put in Mrs. Elsing, stressing the word "was" a little too much.

"Thank you, ladies," responded Rhett.

Dr. Meade came to shake his hand and speak a bit more confidentially. "It's a great thing she's doing, although I think she's exhausted. That girl of yours is probably in some back corner of the house. She should be resting."

Uncle Henry Hamilton was near the whisky. "Excellent stuff, Rhett, but then you always knew how to get the best."

Rhett poured himself a glass. "Have you seen Scarlett?"

"She's around somewhere. She's taken over these monthly dinners Melly used to have, and a good thing, too."

Rhett filled a glass for himself. He looked around and saw that quite a few of the faces looked underfed. "The panic has hit hard?"

"This is the best meal most of them will get all month. She did it in December and January, too. There's no way to replace Melly, but this helps."

Rhett sneered. "Have they accepted her back into the fold so easily, then?" It comforted him somewhat to think of what hypocrites they all were, to take in the prodigal as soon as it benefited themselves.

"Of course not. They're gossiping about her as if she was in a different county all the while they eat her food and enjoy the music she pays for. The first time, not many people came. Then last month, she lost her temper and yelled at several people, but this time she's simply introduced the entertainment and stepped away."

"The yelling sounds like Scarlett, not the hiding."

"She's not hiding, exactly. She's just making it harder to see her so the rest of the cats can enjoy themselves. She will emerge in an hour or so to help with coats and wish everyone goodbye. When it's over, she'll help the servants put the house to rights and start writing notes to some guests about various anecdotes of the evening."

"That sounds more like Mrs. Wilkes than Mrs. Butler."

Uncle Henry pulled himself to his full height and glowered at Rhett. "She's the daughter of Ellen Robillard O'Hara. She knows how to do the right things even if she hasn't seen fit to do them all her life." He walked away, muttering something about absentee landlords who didn't know what they were talking about.

Rhett re-filled his glass and continued into the deeper parts of the house. Deciding that he might enjoy a cigar while pondering this strange party in his home, he pushed open the door of his study. He found his wife on the leather sofa he kept in there, snoring lightly.

"Indeed, Mrs. Butler!"

She was instantly on her feet, her face blanched, looking around the room anxiously. "The Yankees?" After seeing no greater foe than her husband, her face turned crimson. "Rhett! I had no idea you would be home!" She sat down properly, ankles crossed, hands folded, back not quite touching the back of the sofa.

"That makes two of us," he said self-deprecatingly. "I had planned to go to California to check on an old mine I still own a part of, and expected to be gone until the snow melted. Atlanta somehow called to me, and here I am." He sat behind his desk and almost sighed aloud with the pleasure of feeling at home.

Scarlett, still half asleep, staggered over to look at his desk clock, frowned on it, and sat back down. "I need to go out there in half an hour or so to make sure everyone leaves safely. Uncle Henry will definitely need the carriage, but that will be after Pork takes Aunt Pittypat, India, and Ashley home. There are so many hats and coats this time, too. I need to make sure they all get theirs. It's far too cold for them to be without…"

"All of this food, Scarlett… caterers, decorators, musicians and everything as if it was a real party. You go to a lot of trouble and expense just to get scoffed at." She looked at her lap, where she was clasping and unclasping her hands.

"It is a real party. Melanie used to have a dinner on the first Sunday of the month. Since she's not here to do it, someone has to." She was twisting her wedding ring, not to take it off, but just fidgeting, when she looked up and said, "They're not scoffing… much."

"No?"

She blushed and looked at her hands. "If I keep out of their way they enjoy it more, and some of them are so hungry. It's so much like…" She looked toward the room's French doors.

"What were you dreaming about? It sounded like you were re-fighting the war."

She shuddered.

"Was it the old dream?" Damn him for wanting to know.

"It changes with the circumstances."

"A world full of mist and blurry shapes is convenient that way." He was on more sure footing if he could mock her.

Hurt flashed through her eyes at his jibe, but she continued. "It's the end of the war, and Tara is safe for the moment, but there's so little food. Every day there's just work. Caring for the children, nursing my sick sisters, trying to get anything out of the garden, and everywhere I turn someone is hungry, and I'm hungry, and there's so little to go around. And some other crisis always comes along."

"Oh, honey," it escaped from him before he could prevent it. He put the cigar in an ashtray and walked around the desk to join her on the couch and put his arm around her. "You're safe, now. Even with just your own resources, you're comfortable enough." He looked at her and compared her to when he had seen her in November. She was still too thin, but a sort of radiance had returned to her even if she was too pale.

"They're so hungry, Rhett. I have to make sure they get one good meal, even if they hate me for it, just as I had to make the food go around at Tara and everyone hated me for it then."

He stumbled into a new realization. "They hated you for it, but look at their devotion now. The people who were at Tara respect you for it, too. You brought them through, my dear."

"Not as well as Mother would have done, and Sue hates me now more than ever."

"You don't know that. Perhaps you did better than your mother would have. She didn't have to face what you did."

"She wouldn't have scolded so. I never had her knack for simply being able to make a request and have people do it. No one does what I ask, only what I order. Then they hate me for it."

"Why you were in here?"

She blushed again. "I like this room, and I didn't want to be in the way."

"Of your own party?"

"I'm sure you heard some things as you walked through."

"I did, but they changed their tune as soon as they saw me. I was surprised to find you sound asleep."

"I admit I've been tired. I've been busy lately. The mill in Marietta is starting to pay. There are so many things to arrange and order to make calico. I'll never look at a dress the same way again."

"Doctor Meade said you should be resting. He'll be gratified that you were taking his advice."

"Stuffy old busybody!" Then she put her hand over her mouth. "He means to be kind, I'm sure."

"Did you need to see him? Have you been ill?"

A clock in the hall started to chime the half hour, as did the clock on the mantel piece. Scarlett stood up and dimpled at her husband. "Shall we wish our guests a fond farewell, Captain Butler?"

He had a chance to admire her as she made the farewells. She was in mourning, of course. It had been less than a year since they lost Bonnie, and only months since Melanie had died. She was therefore in black that did not look out of place with the humbler garments of her guests. He was glad to see that he had broken her black in one regard. She wore an emerald green sash that accentuated her lovely figure. She caught the way he looked at it and shrugged. So much she had learned from him. Let the people mock and whisper, even in mourning she would keep a bit of color.

Rhett arranged rides and helped some of the less able guests down the stairs as Scarlett simpered and flirted, telling everyone she hoped they would be back the following month. Beyond that, for April in honor of Easter she had planned a picnic if weather served and an egg roll on the lawn. The guests smiled with obviously false sentiment and agreed that they would return.

One of the last to leave, Doctor Meade, gave a final direction to Rhett as he left. "Don't let her stay up all night cleaning and writing notes. She needs more rest than she's getting."

Their carriage pulled away before Rhett could ask if there was a particular concern.

 _A/N: Thank you so much to my lovely reviewers, including **Guest, Love, , Kinderby, LE06301226,** **gumpe** r, and **gabyhyatt.** I thought my notes about Rhett might be off-putting, and they weren't meant to be authoritative. I just wanted to be clear about where I saw this story starting. On another day, it could well be something else._

 _For anyone who was wondering, I did get my 50k for Nanwrimo, and the story is still going!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Scarlett was in the parlor, stacking cups onto a serving tray when Rhett came back into the house. "Doctor Meade said to make sure you go right to bed tonight."

"I am tired."

Rhett walked over and looked her over closely. "Is it too much? Being your mother for Tara, being Melanie for Atlanta, and running the store and mill as well?"

"From here, I can only do so much of what Mother did, and Melanie—I'm not doing much more than what she used to ask me anyway." She turned away. "I'm fine, Rhett, and once this panic gets turned around everything will be better."

"Scarlett…"

"I just need to clear up a little, and then you can tell me why—what it is you want—that is, what brings you to Atlanta."

She was stalling and they both knew it. Rhett took the cups she'd just picked up and set them on the tray. "Scarlett—"

Her lower lip trembled. "Are you here to divorce me?"

Her face was bleak and there was an echo in her voice of the Jonesboro Road back during the war. She had sounded just like that when she realized he was leaving her there to continue by herself. Oh, how he used to admire her bravery. Even now he had to admit that there was something admirable about it. In the face of such bravery he couldn't tell her that he had traveled over six hundred miles just for her body. He pulled her to sit down with him on a settee.

"Not at this time," he replied. "I'm here to check on some investments. The financial situation is so uncertain, you know."

"Of course."

"I arrive to find that you're spending my money so fast that I have to keep a close watch on my finances." He meant it for a joke, but it didn't work that way. They had long since reached a point where he couldn't tease her lightly.

"These people need to eat!" She stood up. "This was the only meat some of them will get for days. It's what Melanie would do. It's what she _did_ do. And Mother—she helped even those white trash Slatterys."

He pulled her back down. "I won't deny that, and if you'd had your Northern friends in here I would have sent them all packing. I won't stop you having these parties, although the children need to eat, too."

She tiredly waved a hand. "Of course. We had a sort of tea party this afternoon for them."

"Not an actual tea party?"

"We had a heartier menu. There's not much meat for anyone in town."

He pondered what he had expected to find when he came home and what he did find. "I have to say I'm impressed, Scarlett. I approve of what you're doing here."

She thanked him by bursting into tears.

"What have I said?" he asked in dismay. He offered her his handkerchief only to discover that she had one twisted up in her hand.

"After everything, it shouldn't matter, but oh, Rhett! It means so much that you think I did something right."

He pulled her close and patted her back. "There, there, you're overwrought." She nodded against his chest. "The best thing to do is get you to bed." She nodded again, so he stood up and helped her up as well. They walked through the hall together, his hand hovering near the small of her back in case she needed help.

He guided her toward the staircase, but she turned. "I, um, I use the back stairs now." He wondered at that, but followed her around to where the second staircase stood, near the kitchen. They passed the children's rooms as they went down the second floor hallway and looked in on them. Both were asleep. As they reached the point in the hall where Scarlett's room was in one direction and Rhett's in the other, Scarlett slid her hand up along Rhett's elbow and tugged

Rhett knew a moment of uncertainty. This was what he had come for, but warring thoughts started to intervene. Would it be too much? Would she get the wrong impression about his feelings and plans?

She broke the silence. "I know how little it means," she said. "I was willing to accept it years ago for Tara. I accepted it in November, and I accept it now."

If she was reminding him of that moment when he was imprisoned and she was desperate, she saw this as a business deal, then. "What do you expect this time?"

A new tear fell on her cheek as she shook her head. "I know it's nothing for you, and I expect nothing from you. But somehow it's everything to me. You're my husband, and now that I know what I'm doing… I want it."

The tug on his arm was almost imperceptible this time, but he followed her into her room.

Once the door was closed and locked, he found that he couldn't wait to undress. No matter that silk and gabardine were being crushed and creased, he soon had her on the bed. There was a flurry of kissing, of undoing just enough buttons and garments for caressing… and other things. Then the moments filled with sighs and groans. He felt her tremble in his arms as she whispered his name, just as he'd been dreaming in endless rail cars over the past few days, and the reality was just as he'd hoped. They clung to each other when it was over until the clothes, which were not meant to be used in this way, started to make them feel uncomfortable.

He quickly finished undressing himself and found that she still kept one of his nightshirts in her bedside table drawer. She had managed to unfasten her dress and step out of it.

"Shall I help you with your laces?"

"Please," she said. She turned her back to him and moved her hair to one side.

"What happened to your stays?" he asked.

"I had them removed. It's just the corset for the time being."

"You can't lace as tight as usual without them"

"I'm aware of that."

"What happened to being able to fit your smallest dresses?"

"I've found that some things are more important. And anyway, it really doesn't matter if I have to wear mourning."

A moment later she was standing in just her chemise, and then that was gone, too. She stepped over to her vanity chair to pick up her nightgown and he noticed something. Stepping behind her, he slid his hands along a curve low in her belly.

"What's this?"

Scarlett deliberately stepped away from him to pull the nightgown over her head. She took a deep breath and stated the obvious. "It's a baby." She fastened the ties and finally looked up at him. "I'm pregnant, Rhett."

He heard the words and couldn't find any way for them to fit with reality. Then suddenly a white rage filled him. He turned and walked out of the room, noting with some satisfaction that she sat listlessly down onto her vanity chair.

* * *

He waited an hour even after getting dressed before slipping into the hallway. He took the back stairs and went out into the night. There was a chill in the air. Perhaps snow would fall. He didn't worry about it. He knew his destination and he was a fast walker.

Belle greeted him with a broad smile. His favorite whisky was right next to her hand. He raised an eyebrow at that and she blushed. "I may have heard that you're back in town." She gestured toward a table in the saloon.

"News travels, doesn't it?" He gave his hat and overcoat to the young man waiting to take them and sat across from her.

"Some swell party your wife was throwing, I've heard." Belle poured him three fingers and passed it to him.

"I can't even decide if it was real. It's not like her to be kind."

Belle thought a moment. "She's softer lately. Less likely to scold and much kinder from what they say. A little bit easier with credit."

"No doubt the influence of the new man in her life." He'd told himself that he didn't care, but it was said quite bitterly.

Belle tipped her head. "I don't think so."

"You don't think it's his influence?"

"I don't think there's a man."

"I know for a fact that there is."

"She's barely been away from that house or store since Mrs. Wilkes died, and no one goes there anymore, even her Yankee friends."

"Surely there are new lines of communication with the Wilkes household."

Belle thought for a moment. "Can't say that there are. From what I've heard, she's not in a room with Mr. Wilkes unless a hundred other people are there, too."

That was something, at least. Then he realized. What about the new mill? There must be someone there. "How much time does she spend in Marietta?"

Belle shrugged. "I hear she goes up there once every couple of weeks, spends an hour or two looking over that fabric mill, and comes straight home on the same day. One of my girls is leaving to marry a man who works out there. I hear she doesn't offer the best wages, but she's fair.

"Rhett, you know I'm not a fan of that woman, but she's different. Maybe she's trying to be like Mrs. Wilkes and maybe it won't last, but I've seen her myself. She cut that Yankee woman, you know the one who used to run a house in Lexington?" Rhett nodded. "She cut her, right in front of the bank, and then as she walked away, she looked at me and smiled as though I was her friend more than the other one. And when I made a donation to the Confederate Widows and Orphans, she was the one to send me a note of thanks."

She moved to freshen his drink, but he waved the bottle away and stood up. "Do you want me to send someone up to you, Rhett?"

He shook his head and waved to the coat clerk. "No, I've already—perhaps another night."

"You've been telling me that for months, Rhett. I used to think it was just me you didn't want. Now I'm starting to wonder." Belle let him out the back door with a worried smile.

* * *

He had no destination in mind when he walked the streets of Atlanta, now. He passed the depot and asked himself for the thousandth time how they'd ever managed to get past it before the munitions were blown up. He walked past Pittypat Hamilton's house, a house that he supposed was still partially owned by his wife, and pondered his courtship. He had wanted her then, so very badly. She was so full of life. Though she tried so hard to be like the ladies and gentlemen of their acquaintance she couldn't help being genuine and letting the real her slip out. He'd wanted a part of it—hell, he had wanted to somehow own it. And when he did, somehow he had crushed it. And now she'd found it again. That radiance that glowed around her couldn't be for him.

Another voice in his head told him that somehow it was. She had been the one to tug him into her room. Without his asking, he had gotten what he'd come to Atlanta for, and it had been everything he wanted. Scarlett was now invested in their love life, to judge from what happened tonight and last November, and it was everything he had once hoped. He had a choice to make, and he couldn't believe himself, but Belle had completely changed his mind.

He made his way back to the house he shared with his wife and went to bed in his own room. He needed to sleep and then to think again, to make sure he hadn't made the wrong decision. He woke in the mid-morning and went downstairs. The children were at school, so he asked for a light breakfast in his study.

He thought it over yet again. Why didn't she say something when he first arrived? The clock on his desk reminded him that there hadn't really been time. No matter. There had been hours. She didn't have to be so attentive a hostess. Her guests might have preferred it. She could have taken him aside at any time to tell him. Instead she had let him follow her around and had even put him to work. She had used his body to satisfy her own longings, and only after that did she tell him she was pregnant. She must be ashamed, and so she should be.

 _A/N: Are we at Chapter 5 already? I found a nifty quote from Margaret Mitchell's mother to her in a letter: "Give of yourself with both hands and overflowing heart, but give only the excess after you have lived your own life." I feel like that's part of the key to Ellen O'Hara (who probably felt her own life was over after Phillipe died such a shameful death), and we know that almost more than wanting Ashley, Scarlett wanted to be like her mother. Perhaps in all those letters Scarlett only half read in Atlanta there was a similar instruction._

 _Thank you so much for all the love! I hope I'm not missing anyone, but the list certainly includes **Twilighternproud, gabyhyatt, gumper, Truckee Gal, Guest 1 & 2, Love, ****Romabeachgirl1981, Kinderby,** and **whoknows3.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rhett was sipping yet another glass of whisky and going through his mental card file of Scarlett's potential lovers when she peeked into the room. "Rhett? They told me you were in here."

"Upon lengthy consideration, Mrs. Butler, I've come to a decision." She flinched and he stood up. "Where are my manners? Please… sit." He pointed to the couch. "A woman in your condition needs her rest. Do you want something to eat or drink?"

"No, I'm not hungry just now, thank you." She looked up at him, warily.

He sat back down. She sat primly on the couch. He recalled the topic of conversation.

"I have decided, as I was saying, what to do about our situation."

He could see her mind was racing. It pleased some part of him to draw this out.

"My choices are to call you out on your adultery and divorce you or accept your bastard child as my own."

A broken sort of gasp escaped her mouth, which hung open. She caught her breath and was about to start talking, but he held his hand up. "Please allow me to finish, Mrs. Butler. Divorce will be difficult, because although I've given you plenty of reason to claim adultery, no one has seen you do anything. In short, I have no proof. Therefore, I have decided to acknowledge your child as mine, provided you tell me whose face will be gracing the Butler name. Who was it?"

"Who was who?" She stood up, outrage pouring out of her.

"Who did you fornicate with, creating a child I will have to acknowledge or divorce you over?" He walked around his desk and stood over her, forcing her to sit on the couch. "Was it Ashley?"

She shook her head, fear creeping over her face.

"Was it that Cobb man you bought the mill from?"

She shook her head again, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find words.

"One of your managers?"

"It was you! It's going to be your face!"

"The hell it was! Don't lie Scarlett!"

"You pride yourself in being able to see right through me but now you suddenly think I'm capable of lying? It's only you. No one else exists, at least not in that way."

"Need I remind you that I took precautions?"

"Of course you did, _the first time!_ "

That backed him right around his desk and into his chair again. "We made love more than once that night." He didn't believe it, but then, suddenly, he did. _Damn_ him for mixing his liquor. He'd kept a clear head by sticking with one form of alcohol at a time. For three months the sights and sounds of other places had kept him from remembering that night clearly. Now amongst the smells and feeling of home he couldn't avoid it. He looked over at her. She was watching him, and then she nodded her head encouragingly.

He recalled drowsing and then finding that he was in the same bed as her. He'd been delighted to find her there and had quickly taken advantage of the fact. She had reached up to him and welcomed him into her arms. He'd called her his darling. The memory that made him leave New Orleans had been a subsequent moment to the initial comfort they'd exchanged. What he'd been longing to repeat was the moment they had conceived a child.

"You told me I had used precautions." He was grasping at straws, as the events of the night became clearer to him.

"It was true when you asked me."

"I don't want a child. I can't risk my heart again."

"I accept that; this child is mine. It's my responsibility to get through this pregnancy, to bear the child, and to raise it."

"Doctor Meade knows, I take it? That's why he wanted me to look after you."

"And a proper scolding I will get from him when you leave again." Her voice was resigned. "I'm sure to be in worse condition than I was the last time he saw me."

"You know I can't stay?"

"I know it changes nothing. You've been perfectly clear."

It changed everything. His mother would not let this rest, and a hundred thousand other details of his life would be changed irrevocably. He mentally shrugged. Scarlet was indicating that she was willing to shoulder the burden. Her shoulders, while adorable, were perfectly capable of handling the load. He thought of how fragile she had seemed when he'd last seen her. She had reminded him of Melanie. He went a little sick. Melanie's last pregnancy had killed her.

He stood up and walked back over to sit next to her on the couch. "Are you in any danger?"

"Doctor Meade says I'm well enough. I'm past the time for some problems to emerge, so now I just need to be careful."

"Like avoiding the staircase."

"It's so wide open I feel like anything could sweep through and trip me. I feel safer on the back stairs. And—" She looked up. There were no tears in her eyes, but there was an intensity in her face— "I can't lose this one. Any more than you can risk loving another child, I can't risk losing one. Not your child."

She was being ridiculous and he should break her of it, but he'd always indulged her every whim in the past and this one was really harmless.

"Have you told the children?"

"Not yet. I would have had to, and soon, but I felt so protective about this until I saw you again. It's a special secret of my own."

"What about the servants?"

"I think some may suspect. They do my laundry, after all. I haven't said anything."

"Why?"

She didn't dissemble or ask what he meant. "I wanted the baby we lost. And after Bonnie—well, Doctor Meade said it might bring us back together again if we had another child. He was quite concerned for your health."

It was galling to think that old busybody would remark about him to Scarlett of all people. He refocused. "This won't be Bonnie. We can't replace her."

"Nor would I want a child for that. Rhett, I know what I said after Bonnie was born, and it was wrong of me. I've come to learn in many ways that I want your child. I want your children. I want them for your legacy, and also for their own sake."

"You're a terrible mother."

She signed in resignation, and didn't deny the allegation. "I don't imagine that will change much either, but I hope to get better at it. I think I might be better with Wade now, and even a little with Ella."

"I was a worse father," he said pensively.

"You were a loving, dear father! A bit overindulgent, perhaps, but it would have been corrected in time."

"I don't know if I can face this. I came home for—and I'm not staying."

"We've learned not to expect you to."

They were at some sort of impasse, but not a critical one. He couldn't divorce her under the circumstances, at least not in Georgia and certainly not if he really wanted any claim on the world he'd grown up in. The man who'd lived in his skin even a year ago would have delighted in this news, would have called this woman his dearest wife. Now he was being offered what that man wanted, and it turned his stomach.

"Rhett." He looked up to see her biting her lip.

"Yes?"

"I hate to ask, but I told the children I might have a surprise for them. Do you want to see them? They're home from school."

Could he stand it? "Yes," he found himself saying, "I must admit I've missed them."

Rhett and Scarlett found the children in the nursery, quietly engrossed in their own pursuits. They each had their own bedrooms, but this room had been made over for homework and playtime. It wasn't a perfect arrangement; Wade frequently complained that his sister's chatter made concentration difficult on his compositions. Yet he didn't retreat to his bedroom.

"Wade? Ella?" Scarlett stood in the doorway. "I have your surprise here." She stood aside and let Rhett move into view.

Wade leapt up from his work table and Ella ran over from her doll house.

"Uncle Rhett! Uncle Rhett!" they both exclaimed as they came over for hugs. For several moments there was tumult until they had Rhett sitting in an overstuffed chair where he once frequently sat to read stories to them. Scarlett sat in a chair nearby.

"Mama told us at breakfast that she might have a surprise for us, but this is better than anything," said Wade. "Are you home to stay?"

Rhett didn't want to answer that question. "Mama has a surprise for all of us," he said.

"Rhett!" interjected Scarlett. "I wasn't sure I wanted to say anything yet."

"It won't be a secret much longer," he said. "They might as well know now, from us." Rhett thought the tendency of children finding out about important family business only after their playmates overheard their parents talking was barbaric.

She nodded her assent. "If you think it's best."

"Do you want to tell them?" he asked.

"If you want them to know, it's for you to tell them," she answered.

The children had turned to Scarlett and were clamoring. "What is it Mama? Is it ice cream? A new dollhouse?"

"Hush, or I won't say!" said Rhett with a laugh. They were suddenly silent. "Mama is going to give you a new brother or sister." He had to swallow hard over the thought of the last word, but the children were busy talking to Scarlet at that point.

"Can we see it now, mama? Where is it? Can we choose?"

"We still have to wait a bit," she said gently. "The baby will be coming to live here during your summer vacation."

"That's ages from now!"

"Can we have a brother this time?"

Rhett laughed. "That's not something we get to pick."

"Mother?" Ella asked quietly, "Bonnie won't get to see the new baby."

Rhett barely caught the trembling of his wife's lip before he put his hand over his face. He heard her answer.

"No, not like you will, dear, but I think she knows about the baby."

"Do you think she's happy?"

"I do, dear. I think she knows how much we miss her, and, and surely she's in Heaven, and she's helping God pick out this baby for us, because she knows how sad we've been, and because it's her brother or sister, too."

Ella nodded. "Bonnie will be very particular. She'll send us a good baby."

Rhett looked up to see Scarlett smiling as tears ran down her face. "Of course she will."

"All right, children," Rhett said. "Why don't you play for a while until your supper. I think Mother needs some rest, and I intend to see she gets it. Why don't I come see you after your dinner?"

Wade and Ella smiled as Rhett led his wife down the hall. He shut and locked the door of her bedroom behind them before turning Scarlett around and working her buttons.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You're taking a nap," he answered. She stepped out of the dress and started to untie her bustle. Once that was disposed of, he came up behind her and kissed her neck. "After I get what I came here for," he whispered, moving along her shoulder.

"Rhett?" she tried to turn to look at him, but he was working at her laces. Once she was loosened, his arms came around her and he started unfastening her hooks. The corset followed the bustle and she turned around.

"What _did_ you come here for? All the way from New Orleans?"

He hated looking sheepish. "I didn't mean to say that."

"You never said why you were here. I know you were going to keep the talk down, although Christmas would have been a good time as well. Are you saying you came," she waved her hands between them, "for this?"

He shrugged and ran his hands through his hair.

"You told me that women's bodies mean very little. I assumed you would have had quite a collection while you were gone, all the while blaming me for infidelity and ignoring your own."

He'd said too god-damn many things in his life and she knew them all, a fact that was hard to reconcile with the lack of attention to people that he constantly twitted her about. There was a truth in there he would have to consider sometime when he was on a train or ship, traveling away and trying to forget her.

"Rhett?"

"It would seem that your body means more than others," he answered. "Even now, when I can't love you any more, when being in the same room with you is torture, I want you instead of other women." He turned toward the window. "I shouldn't admit that to you." He sighed. "Even now you have too damned much power over me."

She came up behind him and slid her hand under his vest. He turned and her hand fell awkwardly to her side. "Rhett, as I said the night that we, well the night that this happened," she said as she patted her tummy. "I said it's all right if it doesn't mean anything to you. Just because it means something to me, it doesn't have to mean anything to you."

He was right back in the firehouse prison, and she was offering her body to him for a pittance again. He had wanted desperately to accept back then but wasn't able to. He probably shouldn't now, but he was going to, anyway. "Why are you willing to do this?"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and honest. "You did tell me marriage might be fun, that I would enjoy it, and it seems I do, even if it took me ages to realize." She put both of her hands on his chest. "Rhett, I've been longing and wishing for you all these nights since November." Her face, no less honest, was filled with embarrassment at having admitted it. "I don't have the options you do," she pointed out.

The little minx was pushing his jacket over his shoulders. He put his hands over hers. "I'm leaving, and soon, and I have no idea when I'll be back."

She nodded, still pushing his jacket. "I understand perfectly. You were away on business, you came home because you wanted to—" she searched for a term— "have relations with me, and when you've had as much as you want, you'll go away again." The coat fell on the floor. Scarlet was now standing between his arms. "Isn't that it?"

It was more a calculation of wanting her body versus having to put up with her the rest of the day. He put his arms around her, folding them at the small of her back. "Close enough.

"I will live with that." She was standing on tip-toe. "I have my own business interests when you're gone, you know."

The first kiss tore through him. Based upon her gasp, he suspected she felt it too. The room darkened as the window drape fell into position, but Rhett didn't care about shadows or light. He couldn't kiss her enough, running his hands along her skin and following with his lips. Scarlett, although not as practiced as some, was following a path of her own, pushing his vest to follow the jacket. Once she started unbuttoning his shirt, she got distracted. Rhett had always dreamed of her lips in the places they now went, but the reality, even this reality, made him go weak. Ever so gently, he moved them toward the bed.

* * *

The sun was setting when Rhett left his sleeping wife in her bedroom and looked in the nursery. The children were not there. He found them downstairs eating their dinner in the kitchen.

"You're really here!" said Ella. "Can you read me a story before bed?"

"I wanted to play checkers!" said Wade.

Rhett chuckled. "I don't see why we can't play checkers while Ella gets ready for bed, and then I can read while Wade gets ready."

"Is Mama coming down for supper?"

"She's very tired and she's taking a nap right now. Dilcey, if you make a tray for Mrs. Butler while the children and I are occupied, I will take it up to her."

Dilcey nodded in that dignified way she had. "Certainly, Mr. Butler."

* * *

 _A/N: I was kind of worried about this pace of posting the story, but then realized it will be several weeks at this pace before I catch up with what's already written, so why not? Thanks again to all the lovely reviewers out there, including **Melody-Rose-20, gumper, Guest, Romabeachgirl1981, gabyhyatt,** **Truckee Gal** , and **Kinderby**._

 _Oh, and a special shout-out to gumper, who noticed the thing with the nightshirts and maybe wondered if it were a hint or a mistake? I guess we know the answer now!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rhett no longer had to cheat at checkers for Wade to win. The boy would be twelve soon, looking toward grown up things. "Will you be here for my birthday?" he asked.

"Isn't that next week?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let's plan on it, then. I do need to leave soon, but I can make adjustments."

The boy let out a deep breath and slid a piece in to be crowned. "King me. Uncle Rhett?"

"What is it?"

"Why didn't you come home for Christmas? Mother was so sad."

It warmed him a little, just as it always had when he would come back to Atlanta and realize that Scarlett had missed him. He considered all the reasons that might make sense to the boy and finally shrugged. "It would have been too hard for me without Bonnie."

"It was hard for Mother, too," said Wade. "She spent a couple of hours with us, and smiled and gave us all of the presents you had sent as well as those she had gotten for us, but she found an ornament under the tree and burst into tears. Then she went up to bed."

"What was it?"

"Do you remember that star Mother got for Bonnie that was like the one I had from Tara but Bonnie hated it because mine was bigger?"

Rhett nodded, remembering. Bonnie was only willing to accept it because he had told her he would buy her a giant star to go on top of the tree. "She hadn't yet learned that bigger isn't always better." If she had, perhaps she would have been content with a lower bar for the pony to jump over.

Ella came, demanding her story. She was asleep before he finished. He put her in her bed and gave her a kiss. She wasn't his own daughter, but he had a certain affection for this child he'd often thought of as neglected as he was. He went down the stairs to get Scarlett's dinner tray and then back up. She had put on a dressing gown and was sitting at a table placed near her window. She turned when he came up.

"Look at all that food! I'll never eat it."

"I think Dilcey made some for me as well." Rhett set their plates and cutlery out. "Have you been eating better than when I left?"

"Yes, I have. I haven't been so sick this time around."

He slid his chair around to where he could put a hand over the curve of her tummy. "When did you first suspect?"

"I started hoping at the end of November. Then just before Christmas, I simply knew." She placed her hand over his.

He felt a dangerous joy in his heart. He pulled his hand away. "You know it doesn't matter. I can't stay. I have to leave—more—because of this. I can't risk it."

She nodded. "So you keep telling me."

"I promised Wade I would be here for his birthday. I'll need to leave the day after."

She nodded but was silent. A moment later she picked up her fork and started to eat.

* * *

They had small spats as they always had. Rhett could never resist the opportunity to make a sarcastic comment over something she didn't understand, and she never could take a joke.

"I see that you're going to buy your way back into the Old Guard's good favor."

"Only if I agree with everything they say and moan and cry about all the things that went wrong during the war like the rest of those fools. And only if I wear mourning for the next decade of my life."

"Have you no feeling for your home state? For your people's pain?"

"What feeling have they for my pain? I've worked and suffered and they just complain that I do it wrong or don't do enough for them." She looked at him then and said, "Oh, Rhett, don't laugh at me. You can't know what it's like."

To be fair, he didn't.

A sort of ritual developed between them for the remaining week. He went to the bank while she went to her store and the children went to school. The family would gather for dinner, and then Wade did his homework, with Rhett and Scarlett's assistance, while Ella read her books or played with her dolls.

Later in the evening, the children would go to bed and Scarlett and Rhett would sit in the parlor and discuss various topics. They stayed mostly in business, which provided a great many topics for discussion. So far, Congress hadn't done much to ease the financial situation, which people were starting to call a depression. She explained that she had changed much of her store's stock to simpler and less expensive items, and he applauded that. He explained that things were even worse in Europe, and she thought of the children who had taken to hanging around her store with their pinched, dirty faces, and thought it was as bad as the end of the war.

Rhett didn't disagree. "I fear some of this will get worse before it gets better. It started sooner in Europe and is worse there."

Scarlett shivered. "It's like a new version of my dream."

She'd had the dream once since he'd been there. He had gone to dinner with a business associate, determining that he couldn't take her along and she had, with large eyes, bitten her tongue and handed him his hat at the door. He came home to a quiet house and went up the stairs to his own room, barely noticing that the door to hers was ajar. He'd just about got to sleep when he heard her crying. When he got into the room she was sitting up, looking at him without seeing, and crying, "Rhett, Rhett…"

"Here I am, Scarlett," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I'm with you."

She looked up at him, still half in her dream, and whispered, "I knew if I kept looking, I'd find you."

"And so you have."

It would only be for a few more days, but it was true enough now. This was always when he felt most tender toward her, when she needed him so desperately. This was the only time she really ever needed him, and he lost himself in it. Tomorrow morning, she would straighten her shoulders and handle her world and once again he would be superfluous. For tonight, he could hold her in his arms and treasure the fact that she needed him and him alone.

It never occurred to him that Scarlett needed him to need her. He never realized the depths within her that would listen to him tell her of the sadnesses of his life, never understood that she would feel those things with him and try to find a way to comfort him. Only once had he allowed himself to accept the comfort and love she would give him, and that was induced by the overlapping effects of five different forms of alcohol. He had learned from a young age that he couldn't trust anyone to love or help him. Melanie Wilkes had been the person he'd trusted most and she was now gone.

* * *

Rhett had planned to stay until Wade's birthday, and was pleased to be able to leave after. He quickly regretted his promise, but once made could not break it. He should have realized, when he gave his promise to the boy, that Wade couldn't have a birthday without his cousin Beau, and that would require spending the evening with Scarlett's erstwhile love. Even that went well enough, however, as long as the concentration of the event was upon the boys and the party.

Wade's requested fried chicken and greens were enjoyed by all, and even ice cream was eaten, cold as the weather might be, along with Dilcey's famous fifteen layer cake, which was shortened to twelve for this birthday. Had Ashley and Beau left even then, things might have gone well enough, but the children went upstairs to put away Wade's presents and Ashley, who had been pensive all evening, chose that moment to broach a topic that should never have been brought up on such an occasion.

"I'm selling the mills, Scarlett."

"Selling? Why Ashley, those mills are a gold mine."

"Not for me, I'm afraid. I've never been as good at making them pay as you were. You know that. I've been sending you my books all winter, and you've sent so many notes back with them."

Scarlett leaned forward from her chair and opened her mouth to speak, but Rhett caught her eye and shook his head. She pressed her lips together in a thin line. She took a deep breath and then said, "Well, then, what will you do instead?"

"My friend in New York has offered me a job again."

"In a bank? They're all going bankrupt and closing."

"This one is re-forming, and there is no railroad money involved, nor any related industry. They will be small for now but sound enough."

"I've heard of that one," answered Rhett. "You'll do fine there, and some of the schools in New York are almost civilized. There are quite a few museums and the opera, too."

"Yes," Ashley smiled that dreamy smile of his that Scarlett so loved, or used to love. Right now a petulant frown was on her face as Ashley continued. "Melly would have so loved to hear opera done by a proper opera company like the one they're starting in New York. I believe she'll be happy from where she is, to see Beau enjoying one."

"Well," said Scarlett sulkily, "when you put it like that I can't argue against it."

"So you will be glad for us, my dear?" Rhett stood to refresh his drink so that he could roll his eyes without being seen.

"Now, Ashley, you know I wouldn't go so far as to say that." Rhett turned to look at her. She was simpering at Wilkes as she did the first time he'd seen her, but there was an impatient tapping of her foot. She was flirting like crazy, yet her mind was on something else.

Rhett brought the decanter over to freshen Wilkes' glass and then returned it. He discovered that Scarlett had scooted closer to their guest.

"I'd like to make an offer on the mills, Ashley."

Rhett sat down and put his arm around his wife. "With what, dear? You've put most of your cash in other investments."

"You'll give me a loan, won't you? As you did when I first bought the one?"

Cold rage went over him as he recalled how she had abused his trust. "You know I will not after what happened that time."

"Rhett, obviously that can't happen again," she hissed under her breath.

"No, it cannot," he returned, "because I won't lend you the money."

"But Rhett—"

"Besides," said Rhett, "I spoke with Doctor Meade today. He's quite clear that you must rest more. The baby is wearing you out." He slid his hand down toward her middle as he spoke.

"The baby?" Ashley looked from Scarlett to Rhett in surprise. Then a ghost moved over his face and he said, "Congratulations."

Scarlett pulled away and narrowed her eyes at her husband. "I'm not a child, and I could handle the mills."

"Please!" interjected Ashley. "It doesn't matter. I had several offers and one stood out from the rest. I've already made all the arrangements. India insists that I have one last birthday party at the Ivy Street House, and then we will leave."

An angry peace settled upon the surface of the three adults, and a clock chimed, telling them the evening was getting late. Ashley went to get his son. Scarlett stayed upstairs to put Wade and Ella to bed while Rhett saw his guests out.

"You've brutalized her, you know." Ashely spoke under his voice so that Beau wouldn't hear.

"What are you talking about?"

"You've made her cruder and stripped something that was noble within her. She's been coarsened by you."

"Do you really think it was me? Did you ever know her at all?"

"I know what war has made her into. Then I know that she became even more crude and improper because she thought you would approve and cheer her on. Then you abandoned her, again and again. If you didn't like what you were making of her, you should have left her alone."

"You know nothing about it."

"I know she was returning to sanity, going behind my back to make sure the funeral was all done as Melly would have wished, quietly making sure Melly's other projects kept going. Now there's a new mania within her, and I understand. It's a new child, an impossible child. How could it have ever happened? Don't answer that! She will never be free of you, will she?"

Rhett turned a bleak look upon the man who had just insulted him. "You have no idea, Wilkes. From the time she was fourteen years old, everything she's done has been for you or because of you. You had all the power in the world to change her ways if you had only realized it. As for now..the shoe is most certainly on the other foot. She does whatever she chooses, whatever she sees fit, and it is I who will never be free of her."

They had reached the main sidewalk by now, and Rhett turned back to join Scarlett with the children.

When they reached Scarlett's bedroom that night, for the first time she entered her room without holding his arm or his hand to bring him with her. He followed her anyway. She went over toward the closet to remove her shoes, but he followed and started unbuttoning her back.

"Do you really think now is a good time for that?" she spat over her shoulder.

"I'm a business man about to leave home for some weeks. Shouldn't I have the comfort of my wife's body before I go?"

"I'm surprised you want it after that embarrassing scene downstairs. Why couldn't you let me have the mills?"

"Besides the fact that Mr. Wilkes finally grew a backbone where you're concerned and sold them without consulting you first? There's more than one reason."

"Such as?"

"I wouldn't have gotten as far as I have in business if I continue to work with people who cheat on contracts."

She fumed, and he continued. "It's not something I would even accept from a wife, and certainly not the one I have now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't like what you've been doing to Ashley."

She took a step away from him. "What do you mean?"

"You've already proven that you can get a better profit from the mills than he can with them, and you've been sending him scolding notes all winter. Why do you need take the mills back and do that all over again? Do you have no feeling for his dignity?" He stepped closer to untwist one of her laces.

"Suddenly you're his friend?"

"Suddenly I understand him much better because I'm in his position in your mind and heart, except that I won't cower to your demands. I will be your husband when I am in town. I will dress and act the part, but you will not tell me what to do otherwise. And you won't bully me the way Ashley allowed. I never understood the hold you had over him, but you have no such hold over me."

Her laces were loosened, allowing her to unhook her corset and lay it aside.

"And lastly, Dr. Meade really is worried about you, Scarlett. I spoke with him today. If you want this baby you're going to have to work less. He's very clear on the subject. You're to have less work and fewer concerns in your life or there may be dire consequences."

She turned around with a suddenly stricken face. "Oh, Rhett! I do want the baby!"

"That's better."

"You do care." She dimpled up at him.

He sighed and looked toward the ceiling. "I don't want you to die."

"Maybe you really do." She turned her back to him again. "Maybe you'd be just as happy if I fell down the stairs again."

He grabbed her shoulders, none too gently, and turned her around, shaking her. "Listen, you fool! You nearly died that day; our child did die, and it nearly destroyed me. I won't have you suggest I want it or even joke about it. Do you understand?"

She looked up. "I—I—."

"Do you?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, Rhett. I don't know what came over me."

He hugged her close. "I'm sorry I was so terribly mocking at the time. I never should have said such horrible things as I did. I knew… I knew and I should have been happy, for that one moment I _was_ happy. I shouldn't have ever said those things. I don't know why I can never leave it alone when we were on the brink of being happy."

"Do you really want me tonight?" she asked.

"I really do."

"And yet you're going to leave."

"I really must."

There was a moment when she seemed to be pondering. At such times he was never entirely sure what she was thinking. Would she send him to his own room?

"You've played the loving husband so well when we've been alone together these last few times _,"_ she whispered. "I've thought about it during the day and it makes me feel like one of those other peahens, whose husbands seem to adore them. I forget, and then we talk and it gets ruined."

"While I'm gone, remember the nights. It's what I will carry with me."

He felt her slide her hands around his back and took it as her answer. He tilted her chin up and started kissing her.

* * *

He tried to leave without waking her, but she reached for him. "Why do you have to go?" she asked.

"I can't be with you for longer than this," he said. "We very nearly came to blows last night, and I just can't live that way anymore. I'm looking for a peaceful existence."

"I'm not sure I can do without you."

"Don't be so dramatic. You've done quite well. Indeed, every time I've left you, whether in drawing rooms or by the side of a battlefield, you've tended to fare at least as well as I. Even these last three months you've blossomed… perhaps more than either of us intended." He touched her stomach. It would be so easy to welcome this turn of events, but he couldn't. He could barely admit it to himself, but he was terrified of having this child. "Scarlett, I know you want this child, but you could lose it if there's too much trouble in your life. If I leave, your life will be much calmer."

"But haven't we been pleasanter?" She was kneeling on the bed, now.

"We have, but we've had some bad moments, too. I can't face them."

He found his dressing gown and put it on, tossing the night shirt onto his pillow. She reached to touch it as he kissed her good bye one last time. Twenty minutes later he carried his one bag out of the house, having directed Pork to bring his trunk to the station the previous day.

* * *

 _A/N: For those unfamiliar with it, Nanowrimo is a thing where you decide you're going to write a 50k word work during the month of November. If you ever sign up, you will get loads of reminders and suggestions all year and then a lot of notices through November. I've gone through the process three or four times, but hadn't in a while and got the fabulous idea to start typing this work on November 20. What I've noticed happens frequently is that one gets to a certain number of words, say 10k or 25k, and suddenly has a section that has to be got through before the next good part starts. You've only got so much time and you have to keep going. So if there are places here where the story seems to have evaporated or gotten away from me, that's why. I hope to catch and fix a lot of that this month, but some things may just be kind of stupid (for lack of a better word). I realize I'm posting this chapter a little later. First there was something missing, which I fixed days ago, but I didn't quite like it and realized why this morning. So here it is._

 _Thank you very much to all the readers and reviewers, including **gabyhyatt, kanga85, Melody-Rose-20, rhett's love, Guest, Kinderby, gumper, Truckee Gal,** and **Romabeachgirl1981.**_


	8. Chapter 8

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rhett spent time on the train pondering what he'd allowed his life to become over the past week. He'd gone to Atlanta fully intending to suggest again that there be a divorce even as he used her body. Then he found what he'd briefly thought were grounds for him to divorce her, but she'd turned the tables on him, leaving him to wonder what he'd been thinking the night he'd made love to her so freely in November. He wondered what she had been thinking, too. Had she been trying to entrap him? He could quickly discount that. She hadn't sought to seduce him at all and the subsequent moments of lovemaking, now that he recalled them, had been initiated by him. It had truly been spontaneous. Was she aware that he'd forgotten to use contraceptive means? Shouldn't she have said something? No, he decided that even though his wife was no lady, she was yet not so knowledgeable about such things that she could possibly have spoken up.

The fact remained that the woman who was legally his wife was having a child that he begot. He did not want this child. Fortunately, the support of this child was no object, and he wouldn't raise that issue just to be churlish. He couldn't imagine loving the child in any real way, but he knew his wife would. He shrugged. That was no object, either, since he didn't love her. He would find a way to accept the situation and hoped against hope that the child would not have dark hair and blue eyes.

Rosalyn Butler met him at her door, having been notified of his plans by telegram, and saw to his immediate needs. Within an hour he'd changed into warm clothing, eaten a good dinner, and was sitting in his mother's library, cigar in hand. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she wasn't going to start by nagging at him.

How wrong he was.

"I suppose you were in Atlanta to torture that poor girl for a divorce again."

"That poor—" He pointed his cigar at the window as though one could see Scarlett through it. "She's about as poor as Midas." He stood up and walked over to the fireplace. "Mother, can't I even get my foot in the door before you start?"

She smiled, several generations of gentility behind her enigmatic look, and nodded. "Certainly, Rhett, how was your travel?"

"Long and exhausting as always."

"I trust you come most recently from Atlanta."

He realized that this was becoming the habit. He'd taken to visiting his mother—as a sort of sorbet course during a formal dinner—to cleanse his palate after being with his wife. If she was going to continue speaking to him this way, he would discontinue the habit soon.

"Yes, I was at the house in Atlanta, with Scarlett." He winced, expecting a series of questions to follow that admission.

"And before then?"

"After I left you in January, I went to New Orleans to do some business there. I had planned to continue to California on business related to the gold fields, but instead returned East."

"What brought you to Atlanta?"

He sighed. "If you must know, Mother, I felt that there was unfinished business from my previous exchange with my wife. I wanted to find some way to normalize things."

"Is that a fancy way to say that you visited Scarlett to ask again for a divorce?"

"I didn't get a chance."

"Did she finally wise up and ask you for one?"

"No, she didn't."

Rosalyn walked over to him and put her hand on his, peering into his eyes. He thought irrelevantly about how when he couldn't help wishing Scarlett would tell him she loved him, he had a look on his face that she claimed always flustered her. He must be getting such a facial expression from his mother right now.

"Something happened," his mother said.

He looked up at the anniversary clock Rosemary had given their parents before the war. How had his mother managed to keep it when so much was lost? He took a deep breath and let it out. It was one thing to discuss it with Scarlett, and another thing to torture Wilkes with it. Once he said it now, it would be real.

"Mother, she's pregnant."

An assortment of emotions passed over his mother's face—joy, worry, even amusement was in there—and she settled on concern. "I specifically asked about children a couple of years ago. You told me you haven't been sharing a bed."

He sighed again. "We did—briefly—in November."

"Still… wasn't she interested in some other man?"

He shook his head. "She's a lot of things, Mother, not the least of which is a scheming bitch, but she couldn't do that. And besides that, people from town who would know if she'd done anything, people who don't care for her in the least and wouldn't hesitate to tell me such things, say she's been more than circumspect. So even if she'd done that, there's no proof. If I didn't have reason to believe her, I still have no usable cause for divorce."

"A new grandchild," murmured Rosalyn. "She must come visit."

"She can't travel, Mother. Her doctor says she needs rest and quiet and peace, after her accident. There's no obvious reason for concern, he just wants to avoid a problem"

"Then your place is with her."

He shook his head. "The quiet and peace would be destroyed in that case. Mother, I want nothing to do with this child, but if she loses another one…

Rosalyn nodded. "I understand, dear."

He could tell that she really didn't. She was obviously already mentally preparing for her new grandchild, so he let the conversation end there.

* * *

His mother didn't push impossibly hard on him as was her wont on previous visits, but neither did she let him entirely alone. "Perhaps I should visit Scarlett," she suggested.

"Mother, the doctor said she needs peace. I left because we were starting to bicker again. What if you worry her so much that—I don't want her to feel as I do about this."

"You don't want her to not want children, to not risk the perils of parenthood?"

"She's so fearless. Did I tell you that when I left her on the road to her family's plantation I said, 'I'll take you against the Yankees any day?'"

"More than once," said his mother dryly.

"I don't admire it as I once did, but I won't allow that to be destroyed."

"You realize you're not making any sense."

He sighed. "Please, mother, don't go."

"What about Rosemary?"

Sometimes his sister was worse than his mother. "Absolutely not."

"I must do something, Rhett!"

He kissed his mother's forehead. "Knit something you can give to her after the baby is born and visits are possible."

She sighed. "Well, if that's all I can do, I'll have to accept it."

* * *

Rhett booked passage to Europe the next day.

"And where are you going?" asked his mother.

"I thought I might see the Paris Salon," he answered.

"Will you be back in time for the baby?"

"I might, but it might be better if I'm not."

"Rhett, this is your child!"

"But what if she miscarries again? Or what if the child is born and has an accident and dies? Or what if the child is _nothing_ like Bonnie?"

"I can see that you're determined to be unhappy about this."

"I don't know how to be happy about it."

"Perhaps something in the Beaux Artes will remind you to enjoy life, but I don't think so well as you can recall from your dear wife herself."

"I wanted to wring the dear woman's neck at least three times a day the whole time I was there."

She patted his arm. "All right dear."

He sailed across an ocean, which proved to be anything but soothing. Everything he saw made him wonder what Scarlett would think of it. He wondered if she would find the immensity of the ocean soothing as he did or frightening. He wondered if she would be sea sick. There were dishes in the ship's restaurants he didn't think she'd ever had. He tasted them all and wondered to himself what she would think of them. There were activities she might not have seen. He watched the swimming and gaming and tried to decide what would truly scandalize her and which things she would claim scandalized her while she couldn't take her eyes from them. He found odd things amusing and wished she were there to whisper to.

Instead of stopping in Paris, he continued further east. There were some factories in the newly-established Germany that fascinated him. He looked at factories making things from water faucets to shoes and thought to himself that the like would never be made in the United States. American factories were too interested in making large numbers to worry about making items with fancy designs. He couldn't decide if the American way was progress or a pity. He finally decided that at least Americans didn't have to be as wealthy to have many of those items, and the return on investment for the owners was better as well. Still there was charm in the old-fashioned European things that American ones didn't copy. It reminded him of how the South could never be the same as it once was and deepened his sense of futility.

* * *

He was traveling back through France on the anniversary of Bonnie's death and stopped in a small church to commemorate the day. He thought of Scarlett, going to the cemetery alone and mourning the child that had been so full of life just twelve short months ago. He feared that without his hand holding hers, she would have no rest or peace today. That wouldn't be good for the baby. He hoped she understood he couldn't have been there in any case. He'd arranged for flowers to be sent before he left Charleston; perhaps Scarlett would understand and take some comfort from his thoughts. As he walked through the graveyard of this village church, filled with people who'd lived and died before, including a local Saint whose shrine was in a back corner, he found an odd comfort among the ghosts of strangers. The world contained understanding and even love if he wanted it. He could accept it here where it was just part of the atmosphere; Scarlett would smother him to death with it.

* * *

The Salon in Paris was everything he'd thought it might be. He pondered a landscape and decided to buy it. Perhaps Scarlet would allow him to hang it in her bedroom, assuming they would continue to share it. Then he walked past a treatment of Psyche finding Cupid asleep. He had to stop and look at it. Suddenly he walked away from it quickly, talking himself out of the fancy that had caught his attention.

Yes, he'd been full of love for her, but that love wasn't asleep, it was gone… except that it wasn't, said a nagging voice. And indeed she had a fine soul, full of fire and energy, but rotten and hateful… except it hadn't been of late, that voice reminded him again. His love had transformed to kindness and pity, but those things were close to charity, which was in itself love. And her soul wasn't rotten, just confused and unsure, having been faced first by horrors no woman should see and then by untruths he'd told her and implied. He'd hidden his love, just as Cupid's true nature had been hidden. He returned to the painting several times before deciding to buy it. This one was more modest in dress than many other artists had depicted them, which decided him in its favor. Scarlett would never allow the usual, more natural, depiction in her house, he thought with a chuckle.

As in New Orleans, he felt the pull of the demimonde. Plenty of the men he met were eager to make certain introductions, assuming he was interested in certain investments in their business. Quite a few lovely women sought his company, but he kept comparing them to his wife. She would never be as exotic or mysterious as they were, but he appreciated her inability to lie to him. Yet a part of him from his youth insisted he experience all Paris had to offer, so he went to a gathering.

A woman past her first blush of loveliness sat on his lap, weary of the round of life she was living but forced to continue it by the circumstance of needing to eat. He went along with her game, taking her to dinner and the theater. At some point during the general scope of conversation he discovered she was twenty-nine years old, the same age Scarlett would be this year. He looked at her again, old beyond her years and worn out by life. He could never allow that to happen to his wife, and would not be part of what had happened to this young woman. He paid a cab to take her home, gifting her with a watch that he'd picked up for Scarlett. It was simply a bauble to him and would amuse Scarlett for a day or two before being left in her jewelry box. For this young woman it might mean a month's rent.

He had intended to go to England, to see what remained of the dignified and charming there, but the young woman he'd almost taken home haunted him with worries about Scarlett. Before he knew it, he was back on a ship bound for Savannah. If the weather was kind, he might be home in time to see her before the baby was born.

* * *

 _A/N: I realize this one's a little boring, but I wanted to look at his state of mind. If I understand what MM wrote in the last chapter, that's why he wanted to travel._

 _Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews, including **Romabeachgirl1981, Melody-Rose-20, Love 1 & 2, Truckee Gal, ****kanga85** , and **gabbyhyatt.**_

 _I've also had a fun conversation with **rhae52** , and **Truckee Gal** saved me from great embarrassment by noting a mistake in this chapter._


	9. Chapter 9

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchel, her heirs, and their assigns._

The ship was still a week out when a bundle of letters found him, having been delivered by a passing boat. His mother wrote that she was very sorry but she had written to Scarlett out of interest in the baby and Scarlett's response had been most kind. Rosemary had gone to Atlanta to be with Scarlett, since she'd been told not to leave the house any more. It seemed that in the absence of a dearly loved sister-in-law, she welcomed her other sister-in-law's companionship at this time. The first letter he read from Rosemary told him that Tara was a charming place and that Scarlett was much more relaxed and tranquil. It seemed to be the perfect cure for her.

He went through the bundle of letters again and realized the date on one of them was smudged. This was Rosemary's letter on reaching Atlanta. Scarlett had a lovely house and the children were darlings. The musical event on the first Sunday in May had been breathtaking and the people of Atlanta were so dear. Poor Scarlett wasn't doing well, however. The fabric mill had been down for a week, and she couldn't go to check on it. It was finally re-started and the manager came to Peachtree Street to reassure Scarlett that such things were common, but Scarlett still couldn't control her anxiety and worry. She'd had some pains and Doctor Meade threatened to put Scarlett in the hospital. Against his better judgement, the doctor agreed that she could go to Tara, but nowhere else. Scarlett perked right up at that idea.

Rhett's eyesight blurred and he looked out over the horizon. He hoped it wasn't enough travel to bring the baby too soon, for Scarlett's sake. He knew what it was like to lose his mind when Bonnie had died, he couldn't stand it if that happened to Scarlett. He re-read Rosemary's other letter. Scarlett ws doing much better at Tara. Suddenly he remembered that Mammy was at Tara. In the absence of Scarlett's mother, Mammy was the person who'd been present for every one of Scarlett's babies. He breathed a sigh of relief. As long as Mammy was around, Scarlett would be in the best possible hands.

* * *

He was given directions to the farm when he rented a horse at Jonesboro. Wade had long ago told him that Uncle Will kept a rickety wagon for trips to town, not knowing that it was the same wagon Rhett had stolen for Scarlett to leave Atlanta. Will wouldn't spend money on anything easier to ride in. Wade's description of the situation included what Rhett took to be a fair amount of marital friction with Aunt Sue as well, over the lack of a nice carriage to make visits with neighbors. Rhett decided that after all of his travel he would rather hire a horse than be jostled in an old wagon. He'd driven by this farm once, taking a tour of Clayton County and looking at all the fields just turning green with new plants. Yet none of the landmarks had made much of an impression upon him then, and now they were burned down or overgrown anyway.

As he came around the last bend, filled with cypress trees and blooming magnolia, he could tell the family were on the front porch. It was nicely shaded from the afternoon sun, which had thrown off the strictures of springtime and moved on to the unrelenting glare and heat of summer. One of the figures on the porch stood up and swayed for a moment. Then it came down the stairs and started moving toward him. Someone else ran to stop the first person and bring her back to the porch. It was several moments before he realized from the shape that the first person was his wife. He stopped in front of the house and dismounted.

Scarlett came running down the stairs again. "Rhett!" she breathed out, touching his face and trying to kiss him. "What a wonderful surprise!"

"Have you forgotten yourself?" he scolded. "All this work to make sure the baby would be healthy might be for nothing!"

She surprised him by laughing. "Oh, Rhett! It's been months! I would have given anything to hear you speak to me that way!"

He stepped back and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at her. She was a mess. Her hair net was askew, and tears were running down her face, but her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were pink, and she had the most genuine smile he'd ever seen on her face. It was a smile for him, and it would be inhuman not to smile back.

* * *

Much later, after dinner had been eaten, after presents had been given to Wade and Ella, and after a tour of the house, they were alone in the bed Scarlett had slept in since girlhood.

"Oh, Rhett, I've been longing for you! I've wanted you so badly!" She was nibbling at the neck of his night shirt. She noticed that he wasn't participating. "Don't you want me? I thought that was why you would ever come home!"

"I don't want to hurt you. I'm not sure it's wise. Has the doctor said anything?"

"Such a lot of letters the doctor has been exchanging with Doctor Meade," she said with a sigh. They agree that if we're careful, it won't hurt the baby. The worst that could happen would be for it to come early, but it's late enough for that not to be a problem, now."

"You asked them? Didn't they find that odd?"

"I wasn't sure when I would see you again, but I didn't want to have to wait. I told them that I was unsure when your business would bring you home."

"Well then, Mrs. Butler." Rhett started to kiss the soft skin under her chin.

They had found a way to enjoy the closeness of their bodies despite the baby, and then she lay quietly against his chest. "I have so much to tell you," she said. "The store limps along. Some months the credit goes out but then other months it gets paid back. The mill is such a trial, though."

"Let's talk about that tomorrow," he said, picking up her hand from where it was caressing his chest to kiss it. "We'll pretend it's the old days. We can sit in your mother's parlor as though we were back at Miss Pitty's and we can go over all of your business concerns. Would you like that?"

She lifted her head and smiled in delight at him. "That would be just the thing! Sometimes I miss those days."

"I do too," he answered. "Tonight I need to find out how things stand in regards to our coming visitor." He ran his hand against her stomach. Something moved and he pulled away quickly.

She giggled. "As I said, I've been seen by Doctor Owen in Jonesboro, and he's been writing regularly with Doctor Meade. He shook his head the first time he came to see me and kept going on about how I was as determined as he'd been told. He comes by every few days but says we just need to let it take its course. Will or Big Sam will go get him as soon as it becomes necessary."

"What else has he said?"

"He tells me the baby is already nice and big and that we can expect it in about a month."

A month. That would be either a very short time or an eternity. He remembered keeping Scarlett within the proper constraints of not showing herself or injuring herself years ago. She hadn't been as eager for a baby then. Perhaps it made a difference.

"I'll probably leave shortly afterwards, my dear."

"Oh." She pulled away a little but he held her close.

"I told you I can't risk my heart a third time. I can't fall in love with this child, Scarlett. I know it's mine, and if Rosemary is as delighted as she behaved over dinner, I can't imagine what my mother thinks. But I can't go through it again."

"You're saying you don't want to risk another child you love being hurt like Bonnie was?"

"Something like that."

"Where does that leave us?"

He twined his fingers through hers. "Well, it occurred to me that I don't hate the child, and I can't hate you just for getting pregnant. I just can't love it fully. I think I will love the child as yours, the way I love Wade and Ella. Can you accept that?"

She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair and along his face. He nipped at them with his lips, giving them small kisses. "I can accept that, Rhett, although I do think you might want to meet the child first. I think this is a jolly, happy child, and that everyone will love it."

* * *

The next few weeks proved interesting. Rhett hadn't been to Tara before, and after a few days of sitting with Scarlett and Rosemary, discussing all of his travels with them, he asked Wade to show him around. There were always fields to hoe and fence rails to straighten, not entirely unlike other jobs he'd done, on other fields or even while mining gold. When those tasks were in hand, there was an adjacent field that they were slowly reclaiming by removing sapling trees and rocks. In the evenings, after bathing and changing into a linen suit and then having dinner, Rhett sat on the front porch and chatted with Scarlett much as they had during her marriage to Frank. He'd force himself to moderate his teasing to something gentler and found that he enjoyed it when she exclaimed, "Fiddle dee dee, Captain Butler! How you do run on."

As the evening wound down and Mammy started muttering about folks needing their sleep, Scarlett would go into the house to prepare for bed. Somehow even then Rhett felt it was like the old days, as though Scarlett was going inside to get into a bed with a different man. It occurred to him that perhaps it was true. The man who sat and flirted with Scarlett, occasionally jabbing with sharper barbs than was necessary but who didn't really care about her, was the man he'd tried to appear to be when he wished Frank was out of the picture. He was different than when he became Scarlett's tender husband upstairs an hour later, just as he'd always wished he might have been when first married to her. Neither of these men could understand the other.

One night Rosemary sat next to him on the steps and nudged him with her shoulder. "You act very much like you love her."

"I suspect she thinks so, too."

"You can't possibly mean you don't love her?"

"I can't love her. I can't risk it. What if she loses the baby? What if the baby kills her? I can't take the risk of losing my love again."

Rosemary smiled sadly. "What if you have a chance for a lifetime of happiness but you never take it?"

"I had a chance, I took it, and we've had death and near death ever since."

"You're due for something good, then."

He picked up his sister's hand and kissed it. "What if I've already had all my good times? What if the best part is behind us?"

She kissed his cheek and then stood up to go inside, patting his shoulder as she went. "Then I think you need to make sure all of the times you have now should be the best that you can make them."

He shrugged. She couldn't possibly understand.

* * *

The baby came a week early. A cold breeze was blowing through, so Rhett and Scarlett, after making love, were putting on their nightclothes due to a chill in the air. Suddenly she sank to the floor.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Her mouth opened and closed without a sound as she gripped the edge of the bedspread.

"You're having a pain?" He came and knelt by her.

Her head slowly nodded up and down as she grabbed his hand with her other one.

"All right, all right." He had no idea what to do until he realized it was just like soothing her from her dream. He ran his free hand along the back of her head. "It will be over in a minute, honey. You'll be fine."

Her mouth kept opening and closing noiselessly until suddenly she drew in a deep breath.

"God's nightgown, that hurt!"

"Let's get you up in the bed and then we'll get the doctor." He rang the bell and lifted her to her feet and then onto the bed.

Moments later Will was headed to the doctor's house and Mammy could be heard coming up the stairs, muttering about babies that didn't know any better than to come when folks needed their sleep.

A few minutes later, Scarlett was in the throes of another contraction, her hands clinging to Rhett's and her eyes searching his. Mammy was doing something under Scarlett's nightgown and then she said, "I don't think this baby is waiting for the doctor, Miss Scarlett." When Rhett would have left, she pushed him down on the side of the bed, facing his wife's face and holding her hands. "You sit yourself right back down, Mr. Rhett. Miss Scarlett needs you. If you don't look, you won't see anything that doesn't need to worry you."

The next hour and a half was horrifying and exhilarating. Rhett wanted desperately to leave. He'd had no intention of being present for something so intimate, yet he couldn't go. Towels and water kept coming up the stairs, only to be quickly used and sent back down. Scarlett kept having moments of lucidity interspersed by those pains that came upon her and worked their agony. At some point, Dilcey and Rosemary lifted up Scarlett's back and held her up so she could finally push and fight against the pains. After several minutes of this, she pushed with all her might and gave a loud gasp of elation, knowing she'd done it.

An instant later, a loud cry was heard as Rosemary and Dilcey let Scarlett lean back in exhaustion. Rhett thought she was the most amazing person he'd ever seen. After he'd spent a couple of moments pondering yet again how strong she was, Mammy stood next to the bed, tapping his shoulder. "Mr. Rhett, I need you to take this baby."

He accepted the crying bundle of baby wrapped in one of the towels, not sure what to do with it. "It's a boy Mr. Rhett," said Mammy, who apparently wasn't done working under Scarlett's nightgown.

"Scarlett, it's a boy. You have another son," he said, holding the baby for her to see.

"Oh, Rhett, I'm so tired. Can't you hold him for a while?"

"Miss Scarlett, you need to feed him. You know this part will go faster if you do."

"All right, Mammy," she answered. Dilcey fluffed some pillows for Scarlett to lean against. Rhett was all too happy to give the baby to someone else, and the baby was soon at his mother's breast.

Scarlett smiled down at the little head pushed up against her and then at Rhett. Then she looked uncertain and looked back down at the baby. "I, em, do you mind what I name him?"

Rhett couldn't define what was going through his head, but he knew what he'd said on subjects related to this. "I do not, my dear. That's completely up to you." He tried to say it gently, but there was no way to sugar coat the situation that it didn't really matter to him.

"I was thinking of Gerald Kennesaw Butler, if that's all right with you."

"The Kennesaws were some of Mother's people! She'll be so pleased," said Rosemary.

"I'm sure that's fine," said Rhett without much emotion.

* * *

 _A/N: As Melanie said, the best days are the days when babies are born. Thank you to the readers and reviewers, including **, Melody-Rose-20, Romabeachgirl1981, gabyhyatt, Truckee Gal,** **Kinderby** , and **gumper**._


	10. Chapter 10

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rhett was waiting in the parlor when Doctor Owen came downstairs later. "She's a strong, determined woman, Mr. Butler."

"I've known few people, woman or man, who could match her for stubbornness."

"He's a fine son. Upstairs they say he already has a look of his grandfather, although much darker."

"I'm sure Mrs. Butler will love him dearly. She set great store by her father."

"Based on this delivery, I would say she's made a full recovery from that fall Doctor Meade wrote me about," the doctor said. "With proper recovery from having this baby, she'll be fit to have another in a couple of years."

That was something Rhett hadn't considered. It was bad enough being in the position where he had to not risk his heart for this child. How could he do it if there were others? He mentally shrugged. As he'd told Scarlett, she had other children. This one was no different and another one wouldn't be any different, either. The doctor made several other complimentary comments and gave some directions, finishing with, "Although that Mammy has delivered enough babies to know what to do better than I."

It was very late, so the doctor didn't tarry, and Rhett didn't press him to stay.

Rhett finished his drink and stood up. He would be expected to go up to inspect his son. By god, he had an actual son, now. Or did he? If this child was no different from Wade or Ella in his heart, was he any different from his ward in New Orleans? Scarlett's children were special to him. The dispassionate part of him had wondered if he would rather that Scarlett's child would be a boy or a girl. A girl who looked like Bonnie was unthinkable. Yet a son, who would carry on his name and who would need a father to properly get on in life was something enormous to consider.

He went quietly up the stairs and looked into his wife's bedroom. She was sitting against the headboard, nursing the baby, and the look on her face was such that he almost couldn't stand it. He'd seen something very much like it ever since Melly had died. She clearly loved the child, loved him in a way that she hadn't loved any of her children before. That she hadn't loved Bonnie this much was unthinkable. Although he could tell himself that she loved Bonnie as well as she knew how, it still enraged him. Bonnie had been deserving of so much more than a mother who didn't know how to love her and a father who loved her but didn't know how to properly raise her. He backed out of the room to find Pork waiting for him.

"Are there any other rooms I can use while Mrs. Butler is less than disposed?"

"Miss Ellen's guest room is right down the hall here, Mister Rhett."

If he hadn't been so tired, he would have missed having her beside him as he fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning after breakfast, after young Jerry's aunts and siblings and cousins had all been in to admire him and kiss his mother, Rhett slipped into the room and sat on a chair.

"You didn't come back last night," she whined.

"You were exhausted, and I didn't want to get in the way of the various things Mammy and Dilcey were doing."

She accepted it, nodding. "Thank you for being there."

"It was nothing."

"You didn't have to, and I've never had a husband hold my hand like that, before. It helped so much."

That face of hope and adoration was looking at him, and he wanted to slap her. He turned away. "Don't—don't read anything into it, my dear."

"You must care for me, at least somewhat."

"I'm responsible for you. I've felt responsible since I endangered your reputation at that bazaar during the war."

"You've been here, in my bed for the last three weeks, because you felt responsible?"

"I stayed in Atlanta with shelling and gunfire over our heads because I felt responsible for you, too."

She scoffed. "How easily you change the facts to suit the story you want to tell. You tried to make me your mistress after everyone else left!" Green eyes flashed and then narrowed. "Well you needn't steal the most miserable nag in Georgia to help me this time!"

"Let me know if you change your mind," he answered as he stepped back out of the room. Then he realized he hadn't even looked at his son since he'd held him briefly after being born. His conscience pricked him, but there was no feeling of loss nor desire to rectify that.

He sought Rosemary out in the parlor. "I was going to stay another week, but it would appear that she will be just as happy if I leave now. I understand the last train is in the early evening."

"Where will you go?" she asked.

"Mother's house." He spent several minutes staring at the portrait of Solange Robillard. She was a celebrated beauty, and this painting showed why. Looking at her, displaying the same pride and willfulness as her granddaughter, he wondered if this woman had been as much trouble to old Pierre Robillard as Scarlett was to him. He decided it was not unlikely. If the stories were true, Pierre was an old, dried-up and angry curmudgeon grousing the last few years of his life away in Savannah. Rhett was determined that would not be his fate.

"So soon after the baby is born!"

He turned back around. "Scarlett and I have got to the point where we can't really be together for more than a week at a time. This was actually quite a long while of congeniality for us. If we're to stay married, and it now seems that we must, I should go before I strangle her."

Rosemary stared at him with big eyes, but then nodded and recovered herself. Rhett smiled at his mother's training showing through. "Do you want to come with me?"

She pondered it and shook her head. "It's clear to me that I'm a poor substitute for Mrs. Wilkes, but she needs some sort of sister-in-law." She leaned closer to Rhett and added in a low voice, "It's clear that her own sister isn't of a nurturing temperament."

Rhett laughed. "Try not to take the harsh words of either O'Hara sister to heart, at least. They're both brutal at times," he said, equally quietly.

The Butler siblings exchanged a smirk. Together with their brother, they were not strangers to sibling rivalry.

"I shall finish the letter I've been writing, then," she said. "You can take it with you as quickly as the mail."

"That I shall," he answered. He kissed his sister on the forehead and went to find the children.

Before he left, he went to Scarlett's room one last time, to gather whatever of his things Pork had missed as well as to take a good look at the baby. If nothing else, he would need to describe him properly to his mother or face dire consequences.

Scarlett was sleeping, but the baby was lying awake in a cradle just an arm's reach from her. Rhett leaned down and picked him up. The baby did seem to have his mother's and his grandfather's jawline, and similar piercing eyes, but Rhett was taken aback, for the child was looking at him with an intense glare that reminded him of no one so much as his own father.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you."

He turned and looked at her. There was some color in her cheeks and she wasn't looking quite so tired. He recalled Mammy saying something, years earlier, about her having children so easily that it wasn't decent, and she appeared to be recovering quickly, now. If he was honest, she was beautiful, just as she'd been after she'd had Bonnie.

"I was unnecessarily unkind, and you weren't wrong," he replied. The child perhaps heard his mother's voice. He started twisting his head around, searching for something Rhett was ill-equipped to give him. "It would appear that young Master Butler wishes for a meal."

Scarlett wearily rolled her eyes. "It seems as though I just fed him." She lifted her arms up to take him and Rhett was only too happy to give him back. The look on her face as the baby started nursing belied her momentary annoyance. She smiled at the little face and then said, "I don't remember being this way with Bonnie."

It so closely echoed what he had been thinking that instead of being hurt at the sound of her name he was surprised. "I don't think you were," he said honestly.

"I do know that I wanted to love her more than I did, but everyone else seemed to own her. You, Mammy, even Melly. I don't think I ever once had five minutes alone with the child."

"You've already gone above that with this one," he observed.

They were quiet for a moment, quiet enough to hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

"Scarlett, I have to leave," he said.

Hurt filled her eyes. She looked out the window and bit her lip. "I thought we were doing so well."

"There were extenuating circumstances that kept us both on our best behavior, and you know we're starting to argue again."

"It's not so bad."

"We were able to apologize for what we said this morning. What would happen if we said things we couldn't apologize for?"

She didn't have an answer for several minutes and then turned to look at him. "You're going to miss everything with him if you're gone a long time, all of the things he will do for the first time only once."

It was his turn to look out the window. "Perhaps it's just as well. I would always be comparing him to…" he still couldn't get the name out.

She sighed in resignation. "Will you write this time, at least?"

He nodded. "I'm going back to Charleston, to my mother's house for a little while. I should give her this news in person."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I'm not sure. There are some places I want to go, and others I _need_ to go."

She sighed. "I need to get back to Atlanta, myself. I'm sure the store and mill are in a frightful mess, and then there's the monthly dinner. I missed June and July, but there's a couple of weeks before August. The doctor will probably let me go home."

"You missed them? They were able to have them anyway?"

"I set it all up to be at Pittypat's house. I'm sure everyone thinks it's just as well."

She sounded as weary as he had felt in November. Even with this new child, parts of her life held little to interest her. He felt cruelly pleased by this. He made a move to go, and she whispered, "I hope you have safe travel, Rhett."

"I will see you again, Scarlett," he said. He placed his hand on the baby's head as he leaned down to kiss his wife's hair. Then he was out the door.

* * *

"You left her again? Pregnant?" Rosalyn stood in the doorway of her house, forcing Rhett to stand in the afternoon rain. "I have half a mind to tell her she _should_ divorce you." He turned slightly as though to leave.

"I thought you might want to know about your grandson," he growled back.

"Why didn't you say so?" She reached out for his hand and pulled him into the house. She helped him with the jacket of his suit and hat and asked, "So, a boy?"

"Gerald Kennesaw, Mother."

"So she named him after her own father and for you."

Rhett hadn't considered the middle name before. She hadn't used his first name. She'd used his middle name, sensing that he wanted a little distance but still giving the connection. Where had such perception in her come from? Or was it that natural vitality, sensing that there was some _rightness_ in taking a piece of him to give to their son? "Yes, I suppose she did. He had a full head of dark hair and turquoise eyes."

"Yours were that color too, right after you were born."

"And the last time I held him, he glowered at me just like Father did."

She smiled sadly and put her hand on his face. "Then he looks very much like you, as well." She handed his things to a servant who had come to the hallway. "Go up and get warm and dry, dear. I'll see if we can do something more filling than the usual tea."

He came down the stairs and handed Rosemary's letter to his mother. She read it as he ate, saying nothing other than the occasional sigh or chuckle. "You certainly comported yourself well until the last," said his mother as she folded it back into the envelope.

"Oh?"

"Rosemary has quite heroic ideas about husbands, now that she's seen you help your wife through childbirth. Most men are sent outside."

He glowered at her over the rim of his water glass. After he set the glass down, he shrugged and said, "I was trapped in the room. When Bonnie was born, there were plenty of people to push me out. I anticipated it this time as well but Mammy wouldn't let me leave. After all, Scarlett's sister was there. I always thought Scarlett exaggerated that lady's unkindnesses. If anything, she underestimated them."

"Rosemary writes that Suellen slept through Scarlett's entire ordeal."

"Yes, and the doctor arrived a half hour after it was over. Mammy delivered the baby while Rosemary and Dilcey helped. They wanted me to hold Scarlett's hand and occasionally wipe her forehead with a damp cloth."

"I'm sure she found that helpful."

He thought back to that night. "One hears that women cry a great deal and even curse their husbands, but Scarlett never did. She took a very businesslike approach to it. She followed Mammy's directions and held my hands. She smiled at me between her pains." Rhett thought of the smiles and decided they were most like the nervous, worried smile she wore right around the time her lumber mills had been producing but it was unclear whether they would be profitable. "She concentrated on what she needed to do and ignored the rest of it."

"I've heard some women don't have much trouble at all. Well and good for her, but not terribly ladylike."

"That's what Mammy said." She had smiled when she'd said it, though. Mammy was quite proud of Scarlett.

"And the boy?"

"A fine specimen, according to Mammy and the doctor."

"I was looking for your opinion."

He sat back, unable to commit to his thoughts. "He's well enough, certainly as likely a child as Scarlett's other two."

"He's your child as well, Rhett."

He was done eating, so he stood up, desiring solitude. "I cannot think of the child that way. As Scarlett's child, I can admire him and feel affection, but I cannot love him as I did—" He still had trouble with the name.

"Bonnie. She's gone, Rhett, and no child can replace her. No child could evoke the love you felt for her. Still, this child could be a comfort if you let him."

"I cannot allow myself to risk that pain again, Mother." He turned his back on her and went back to his room.

A/N: I appreciate the warm welcome that little Gerald got. Thanks to the readers and reviewers, including **Romabeachgirl1981, Melody-Rose-20, kanga85, LE06301226, gabyhyatt,** **Truckee Gal,** and **Kinderby**


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rosalyn left Rhett alone for several days. He spent the time planning his next trip. He really did need to get to California, and then he wondered about taking a ship west instead of coming east. He might travel through the Orient and explore the subcontinent. He could see the Pyramids, maybe. Then he could finish in Europe and come home.

When his mother did speak to him again during breakfast a week after he came home, she introduced her topic as though asking him to buy flowers from a street vendor. "Should we arrange for a wet nurse for when Scarlett and the children come?"

"I am under the impression that she wishes to feed the child herself," answered Rhett from behind the newspaper. He shifted the paper so he could look at her around it. "Did you say Scarlett and the children are coming? _Here?_ "

"I sent the invitation days ago. Rosemary writes that Scarlett might be receptive now that the baby was born."

"She hates Charleston."

"She hates visiting her aunts. Can you really say you blame her? Rosemary says she's not averse to visiting her husband's family."

"She loves Atlanta."

"It was before the baby was born, but Rosemary wrote that Atlanta seems to tire Scarlett these days."

Rhett was busy putting just the right amount of jam on his toast. "I think she's better at chess than one would think."

Rosalyn raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure why you would say that, dear."

"She's trying to convert all of the pieces on the board to her own color. Suddenly you all want what she wants and woe to me for wanting some peace and quiet."

Rhett was drafted into helping to prepare for the visit. His mother decided to put the older children in rooms adjacent to the nursery where the baby would stay, and Scarlett would have a room adjacent to his. It was up to him to guide the painters and decorators to make rooms that the guests would love.

"You're going to far too much trouble, Mother," he complained.

"Not at all if they visit again, as I'm hoping they do."

He thought about what they had enjoyed the last time he'd been at Peachtree Street, and how they'd played at Tara and came up with something that was in keeping with his mother's house but also pleasant for the children. Wade was starting to become a studious young man. He still wanted to go to Harvard and study law like his father. Rhett wondered if perhaps he should arrange for the boy to have help preparing for the entrance exams. He would write Henry Hamilton about it. He made sure there was a good student desk in his room and added several books from the family's library that the boy might like.

There was also Ella to consider. She was an indifferent student, but she was starting to draw lovely pictures. He set her up with an easel, stocking various crayons and pencils that she could use.

Scarlett was much more difficult. He couldn't turn any room of Rosalyn Butler's house into the monstrosity it would be if too much like Scarlett's bedroom in Atlanta. He discussed it with the decorator and between them found something that he hoped would suit. He hoped the gentle shades of green would make up for the fact that there weren't so many mirrors and the furniture was simpler. He hung the portrait of Psyche seeing Cupid for the first time in that room and hoped for the best. Although the nursery had a proper, modern crib within it, in the attic he found the cradle he, his brother, and his sister had used as infants. His mother came to watch as he put it together near the side of the bed Scarlett usually used. Altogether, he realized they had created something with a similar charm to her room at Tara.

"Will she keep the child so close?"

"This is how she had things set up at Tara. If it doesn't suit, we can put it back in the attic. What interests me more, mother mine, is how this cradle should still be in our possession."

Rosalyn smiled gently. "No one wanted anything like that when we had to empty the townhouse, and I thought perhaps one of you might want it. It seems I was right."

He turned away from her, annoyed to think she expected him to have a connection to so trifling a thing, even as his eyes prickled.

* * *

Scarlett arrived with the children and Prissy in mid-August. She was looking well, he thought. She wore partial mourning now, a shade of green that allowed her skin and eyes to glow yet wasn't offensively bright or cheerful. He found himself looking at her and thinking that it was good. She wasn't down to her usual size, yet, but she was back in a full corset and her waist more than reminded him of the days when she was the belle of three counties.

"Scarlett, my dear! I'm so glad to finally see you under pleasant circumstances!"

"Miss Rosalyn! You are most kind, I am sure!"

Rhett watched as his mother lost no time having Rosemary take the children up to wash and change before the dinner that was prepared.

"I believe I'm supposed to take you up," he said. He held out his hand as though to guide her up the stairs.

"I half expected you to be gone," she said.

"Mother had me decorate the rooms for you and the children. I must admit some interest in how you will all like them." He sighed. "I'm interested in so few things these days that I thought I should indulge myself."

He showed her the rooms he'd set up for the children. "Everything is just the sort of things they like, and so homey!" She said. She set her hand on the bar of the crib, where Prissy had already laid a sleeping Gerald. "It's perfect for him."

Finally, he showed her into her bedroom, and she stood in the doorway. "Is this how you see me, or how you wish I was?"

He searched for the right thought. "It's the sort of room that I think belongs to a lady who always does what needs to be done, whether she should or not and whether people like her for it or not."

Scarlett set her reticule down on the vanity and placed her hand on the cradle. "That doesn't sound like a lady at all."

"Maybe they need to change the definition of ladies."

She looked up at him, her green eyes luminous. "Oh, Rhett, I—"

"Don't read anything into it, my dear."

"I'm—I'm— Oh, what a portrait!" She slipped around to where he had the painting hung, between the windows so that it would get as little direct light as possible. She stood in front of it, interest and confusion married on her face. "Are those real people?"

"They're from a Greek story. This is called Psyche looks on Cupid."

"Aren't cupids like the baby angels I have on my furniture at home?"

"Sometimes they're drawn that way, and sometimes the Greek Cupid is shown like this."

"She looks worried."

"She has been. She was told that she had married a monster, and she never saw him in the daylight. One of her sisters teased her until she took a lamp while he was sleeping one night and went to see him."

"He's no monster."

"No, he's quite handsome, isn't he? His mother is the goddess of love, after all."

"I'm sure she was happy to see that he was good looking after all and they lived happily ever after."

"Not quite, my dear. He woke up and realized she saw him and ran away. Since he was a god and she was a mortal, she couldn't follow him. He was in a bit of trouble with his mother for letting her see him, of course. She was given great hard tasks to do before she could be accepted as a proper daughter-in-law to Aphrodite."

"Are you expecting such tasks from me?"

He looked at her and pondered it. Was there anything she could do to make him take an interest in life, much less her, again?

"I don't know, my dear," he said quietly. "I fear your task will be easier and harder, because we will only know after it happens."

She nodded and twisted around, looking at the room. "It's lovely. I hope I can be grand enough." She was trembling.

"Don't tell me you're nervous!" he mocked gently. "Is this the Scarlett O'Hara who drove a wagon across battlefields to get home during the war? Who faced a Yankee deserter and shot him dead? Who survived all the tribulations of our Atlanta life, and thrived?"

"None of those things will make me look good to my Aunts Pauline and Eulalie."

"Ah… well those redoubtable women will likely call upon you tomorrow, but today we just have family at the table. You know everyone well by now except my mother."

She nodded to herself and smoothed the front of her skirt. "I'll be down in a moment."

Dinner went through pleasantly. Scarlett was everything that was charming, Rhett thought with relief. She chatted amiably with Rosalyn about the places she'd been on previous visits to Charleston and places she hoped to visit again. Rosemary compared a few places to what she'd seen in Atlanta and Tara.

As dinner was ending, one of the servants made a signal from the kitchen door and Scarlett excused herself to go up and feed the baby. She came down within an hour, with Jerry in her arms, and joined the family in the library. Rosalyn's face was hard to miss, so Scarlett handed her the baby. As his mother made baby faces and cooed, Rhett sat next to Scarlett and whispered quietly.

"How was the party on Sunday?"

She rolled her eyes. "Dreary, but I had a good reason to slip out frequently." She smiled over at the baby in his mother's lap.

"How are the old guard?"

"Just the same. They don't quite approve of me, but they come. Wade and Ella are starting to get a couple of invitations that they never got before."

"The old _quid pro quo_ is starting to pay off."

"I don't know what that means, but I guess they feel they owe me."

It was all too easy, and he just couldn't do it, so he moved on. "And how is your mill?" he asked.

"Doing quite well. I'm getting a good price for my textiles. I have a cotton gin, halfway down toward Rough and Ready. It is going to start with this year's harvest. Rhett, this has to be a short trip. I'll need to be home by early September to have the party. After that my time will be spent on the gin. I have several farms that want to send to me; they've been planting more every year, so a new gin in the area is really necessary."

"And the store?"

She turned concerned eyes up to him. "It's very hard to find a line between helpful friend and competent businesswoman. Some days the money just seems to go out and out so quickly, but most of the time it comes back in again, just very slowly."

"Are they taking advantage of you?"

"I don't think so. The people I don't know very well get less credit, of course, and so far everyone seems to find a way to pay me a little bit every month even if it's not much against their totals."

"Are you making any money at all?"

"I'm managing to keep even, to keep buying stock and paying wages. There's not much coming back to me, although my books say I'm owed quite a bit."

"I never thought I'd see the day when Scarlett O'Hara let a few dollars go in favor of helping people."

"I can afford to do it, now."

"I have to give you credit, Scarlett. All too many people promise themselves that they'll help others as soon as they get a little more for themselves. You're one of the few who actually do it."

He gave her a warm smile, and she smiled back up at him.

Their moment was interrupted when Rosalyn asked a question about Jerry's schedule and activities. It seemed he didn't do much, yet, but he was starting to gain control over his head and tried to twist over on occasion.

"It will come all too quickly," said the doting grandmother.

"I believe so," answered the mother quietly. "There are days I can't wait for him to do all those things and make me proud, and other days I wish he'd stay little forever."

Rhett watched his mother get a wistful look on her face. "I felt exactly the same way about my children, my dear."

Conversation continued in this way until the baby suddenly made an angry face. His head began twisting this way and that, and his dark eyes flashed.

"Doesn't he look just like Rhett?" Rosemary giggled.

Rhett frowned. "I'm not sure I see so much of a similarity." He frowned even more when his mother, sister, and wife all burst into giggles.

"I think that's my cue to take him upstairs and bid you all good night. Miss Rosalyn, I thank you for your invitation and for such a beautiful room. I was telling Rhett that I hope I'm worthy of it."

"I'm not worried in the least, my dear. Thank you for coming and for bringing those lovely children."

 _A/N: I wanted to shorten Gerald to Gerry, but in the book, when there's one section of Gerald talking to his older brothers in Savannah, they call him Jerry. So in order to be true to the canon, I went with Jerry. I'm not fond of it, and if you see a Gerry in there, it's the baby. Thanks to all the readers and reviewers, including **Melody-Rose-20, kanga85, Romabeachgirl1981, Truckee Gal,** **gabyhyatt,** and **gumper**_


	12. Chapter 12

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Scarlett left the room to prepare the baby for bed, and Rosalyn turned to Rhett. "She's a darling, Rhett."

"That's not the Scarlett I know."

"No?"

"The Scarlett I know is spoiled, and determined, and taciturn unless she's scolding…"

"I don't disagree." Rosemary patted his hand. "I've stayed with her for several months now, and I do think she tends to those things, but she's also vivacious, and yes, determined, and she's learning to hold her tongue unless something really needs to be said. I really think she's trying to get out of the pattern you and she had developed. She said something to me about making good use of the time you're apart to try to be what her mother would want."

"Bless her for that," said Rosalyn. "There was no dearer young lady than Ellen Robillard, especially after she grew out of her own wildness."

"Scarlett's mother, the great Ellen O'Hara? Surely she was never wild. Scarlett has always thought of her as a minor deity."

"Stories flew about back in the day, and it's never been entirely clear to me because we had problems with one of our own children at the time, _ahem_ , but there was something about an inappropriate suitor, a bad summer where it looked like anything might happen including a convent, and then suddenly Ellen was married to that clever Irishman and mistress of a whole plantation. I think many of the best people go through a wild phase." She smiled indulgently at her son.

It was something he couldn't help thinking about as he went upstairs and prepared for bed. Scarlett had been sixteen and disappointed in her love affair when he had first met her. What would have happened if there had been no war? Surely she wouldn't have inveigled that proposal from Hamilton. Would Rhett have been able to pursue his interest in a more proper way back then? Should he chalk up the whole miserable past decade to the spoils of war?

He was in a dressing gown, leaning against his bedroom door when Scarlett came out of the nursery. "Bring him to me when he needs me tonight, Prissy," she said quietly.

"Yes, ma'am, Miss Scarlett."

She turned and sighed heavily and then saw him. "Rhett!"

He saluted her with his whisky glass. "My compliments, Mrs. Butler. You played your role well."

"You don't think I can be like that? What if that's what I want to be?"

"Do you really think you can just change your spots, my pretty leopard?"

Her shoulders slumped. "It's to be like that, then." She took a breath and squared herself, standing her ground. "I don't know if I can change or not, but I mean to be better than I was, and maybe if it doesn't work, some of my spots will be a little… improved?"

"You're claiming virtues you jettisoned from your cargo years ago."

"You told me that they would be damaged when I wanted to take them back up, and they are. Someone told me that such virtues are the worse for not being used, but in any case, they can grow if I just try to use them. They said something about Saint Augustine." She bit her lip and wrung her hands. "If I don't even try, I can't possibly…"

Ashley again. Well, at least that fool was well away from Atlanta. In the meanwhile, Rhett found himself on the wrong foot. "Right you are, my dear, and shame on me for teasing you about it."

"And now you're doing that thing, pretending to understand and encourage me while you doubt it all." Her lip was bright red now.

"Calm yourself, my dear. I didn't mean to be entirely patronizing. If anyone can do what you've set out to do, it's you."

"Thank you, Rhett."

Time to change the topic, before he let out his jealousy and anger. "I, em, never showed you _my_ room this afternoon."

"I'm not sure I dare," she whispered. "What if your mother checks on you?"

"You're my wife," he whispered back. "It would be normal for you to be there."

"Rhett!"

"Come along, Mrs. Butler." He took her elbow and guided her through the door.

"Oh!" She took in the wallpaper, the soft drapes, the desk full of papers and the shelves of books. "It looks just like you!"

He chuckled. "Is that good or bad?"

"It's perfect. Is this grass?" She pressed her hand to the leafy design in the wallpaper.

"Rice plants, actually," he replied. "We have a plantation out along one of the rivers. Now it's mostly memories."

"I'd like to see such a place, if there are any nearby."

"I think you're expected to receive visitors tomorrow, but perhaps in the next few days?"

"I'd like that." She took in everything in his room. "This room is perfect for you. I need to learn how to do this in our house in Atlanta."

"I have a bedroom and a study there."

"Yes, and they're very nice, too, although not quite as nice as here. I meant for the rest of the house."

"Nothing will fix the outside of it, but we have the money, if you'd like to do a room or two at a time on the inside."

"Are you coming home?" He could tell she was trying not to smile.

He frowned slightly. "Not any time soon, I'm sorry to get your hopes up under false pretenses. I'm actually leaving in a few days to take that trip west, and then I thought to travel around the world."

She gasped. "That will take a long time."

"Indeed it will, I think a year but not forever, and as I promised I will send you letters and perhaps a memento or two."

She looked down and cast her eyes back up. "That's very nice and all, Rhett, but I find that I rather have you than gifts."

He smiled. "Well since you won't have me, the other will have to suffice."

"You can be quite nice when you want to."

"So can you."

She giggled, "Oh, Captain Butler, how you do go on!" She yawned then. "I'm sorry, but I should get to bed." She moved toward the door.

"Is my joining you out of the question?"

She turned back. "Well I do need someone to unfasten my laces."

The tilt of her chin when she looked over her shoulder was maddening. He followed her into her room and closed the door firmly. He helped her with her dress and then her corset, noticing that it was constructed differently than others he'd handled. He realized it was made to allow her to feed the baby. There was a moment of uncertainty. "I've never been with a woman who did what you've been doing… with Gerald," he observed.

"I have no experience with that, either, you know. Charles was long dead, and I couldn't stand the thought of Frank after Ella was born." She sighed. "And you know what a fool I was after Bonnie."

"Would you rather not? Has it been long enough?"

"I think it will be all right. The doctor says I'm healed enough."

He kissed her, and quickly found that she was still Scarlett, regardless of a few differences.

* * *

At some point in the middle of the night, there was a tap on the door and Scarlett quickly rose to answer it.

"Thank you Prissy."

She twitched the drapes open to allow a little moonlight into the room and sat on the bed to feed the baby. Rhett listened to the gentle cooing noises for a few minutes and then fell back to sleep.

A few hours later, early daylight filtered through the curtains, and he awoke to see his wife in the same position. "Have you been doing that the whole time?"

She shook her head, "No, but he feeds every three or four hours, so I kept him here by me." She stood to place the now sleeping baby down. "This cradle is lovely."

She got back in the bed, and he put his arm around her. "It was the cradle we used as babies. I have no idea how my mother managed to save it."

"It's just what we needed for Jerry." Her eyes closed as though she couldn't keep them open.

Rhett imagined she was exhausted. He just let her sleep. There were a few hours before she needed to be available to visitors.

* * *

Eugenie and Pauline had been delightful to Rhett when he'd brought Bonnie to Charleston. They had said and done all that was gracious and he had seen nothing but the famous Robillard charm. They were not so kind to Scarlett. The first thing they noticed was that she seemed tired.

"It's what comes of being in business," observed Eugenie to Pauline. "A woman needs to be in the home, not off making so much money, and then claiming economy when relatives need more of a hand. One hears of the ostentatious displays put on at her house every month."

"No wonder she's less attractive to her husband and he leaves her for months at a time," put in Pauline. "Not only is she doing men's work, but she's wearing out her looks, too."

"Looking at her it's plain to see… It's no wonder her life has come to discontent and unhappiness. We always thought Ellen let Gerald spoil her."

Bright red spots formed on Scarlett's cheeks at that and her eyes flashed, but she bit her lip and remained silent.

As they spoke, they cooed and smiled at the baby, twisting him this way and that as they looked for similarities to their family. Finally, Pauline held him up in a way he wasn't ready for; his head lolled to the side and it scared him enough to shriek with fear and annoyance.

Rhett couldn't help himself. He stood up and snatched the child back, cradling him carefully in his arm and shushing him. The child's cries changed but weren't completely silenced. Turning to his wife, he held out his free hand to assist her in rising from the settee. "I believe he needs the sort of love only a mother can give, my dear. Shall I carry him up for you?"

She nodded silently, unable to speak.

He turned to their guests. "I apologize, but it seems that Scarlett and Gerald must be excused."

He offered her his arm and before they were out of range he heard Pauline say, "He's such a good husband and father, so much better than she deserves." Scarlett shuddered at that, so Rhett shifted to put his arm around her.

Together they walked up to her room, where a well-padded rocking chair had been added. "Oh, Rhett, It's lovely! Thank you!" She said it with a strangled voice. "And thank you for what you did." She quickly sat down and unfastened her basque to feed the child.

Feeling ashamed for having encouraged those ladies' hostility toward Scarlett, he looked out the window. "It's little enough. There was a time I took pride in your industry. Even now I consider it one of your virtues."

"I'm glad to hear that; it's about all I have to fill my days now." As well as she was able, Scarlett stretched out of the chair to look in the vanity mirror. "I do look tired. It's not just being wakened to feed him. They say the milk takes my own energy away."

"Perhaps you should eat more."

She made a sound of derision. "You should see what Mammy tried to get me to eat at Tara."

He went to a vanity drawer and took out a handkerchief, which he placed in her hand. "I'm going to have someone get the doctor. I didn't like the way his head rolled."

"I think he'll probably be all right."

"I'm still going to have it checked on. And I'll have the kitchen send a plate up for you."

"I'm not sure I can."

"Some fruit and maybe a pastry?"

She nodded. "I'll try."

"Good girl." He turned to go.

"Rhett?" He stopped and looked at her. "Thank you. I know I shouldn't expect much, but…"

"You're welcome."

* * *

The doctor twitted Rhett about his worries for the baby, ribbing him unmercifully about being an over-anxious father. "This isn't your first. You're supposed to just look over your newspaper and nod whenever the child does anything or anything happens to him."

Rhett handed him a cigar and thanked him. "I've never done anything the way it's usually done in this town," he observed, "and it's a little late for me to change my ways now."

"He's a bright and coming lad. He'll do fine."

"Thank you, Doctor," said Scarlett with a nod. "And thank you for coming out. Your reassurance is most kind."

The doctor left with an image in his mind of the young Mrs. Butler holding her child as if he was the most precious thing in the world to her, while Captain Butler had his arm around both. He recounted his visit at a dinner party that night with great amusement, and wondered why some of his listeners looked with embarrassment into their soup. His hostess leaned over and gently explained the fate of poor Bonnie Butler, leading the doctor to realize his error. He quickly nodded, revising his story to note that under the circumstances their behavior was completely understandable, and touching. He told the story several other times that fall, but with a greater air of gravity, as an example of the ways different parents might respond to various situations.

That night, Rhett held his wife close. "I should have asked the doctor if another child this soon could hurt you."

"It doesn't work that way. Mammy says that when the mother feeds the baby and he gets nothing else, her courses don't flow for a while and she won't get pregnant. The doctor said I was less likely to get pregnant if I'm feeding the baby and not to worry if I don't have my normal flow for a while. He said that when my body can handle another baby, I'll get pregnant again."

Rhett had seen enough women pushed beyond their endurance with child after child to be confident in that assessment. "Is that what Doctor Meade said?"

"He said it's my duty to be your proper wife."

"Did he say what _my_ duty is?"

"You know I wouldn't ask such a thing, and he would never tell me."

"I believe it's my duty to protect you from whatever dangers I can. Perhaps I should let you sleep instead of kissing you and touching you."

"Rhett, I want it."

"Is it worth the risk? You have so many things to manage, and you're going to be alone much of this year."

"There's hardly any risk. We have so many servants, and the children are helpful, too. And Rhett, you're leaving, and I'll at least have these memories."

"But the possibility of another child?"

"I don't expect it, but if it did happen, and if you didn't make it home, then I'd rather have your child than nothing."

He couldn't keep from kissing her. "I don't want to impose, but the only time I ever feel anything good is when we're like this, Scarlett. The rest of the time I'm numb."

"It's no imposition," she said. "This is when I'm safe, and warm, and happy."

* * *

A/N: Ecological Breastfeeding is a thing. There are something like twelve rules, and some of them are more luck than ability, but it does work out. I don't think they knew about it in the 1870s, but I'm pretty sure that the midwives and doctors of that era will have noticed certain tendencies. Rhett is right not to trust it, but Scarlett is right that it's unlikely and it would appear she's willing to take the slim chance.

Thanks as always to the readers and reviewers including, **gabyhyatt, Melody-Rose-20, Romabeachgirl1981, Guest 1 & 2, Anne Hampton Butler, Truckee Gal, kanga85, **and **Kinderby**


	13. Chapter 13

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Scarlett Butler was no stoic. She could bite her lip and keep quiet all she wanted, but her eyes flashed, and those patches of pink would come and go on her face, and Rhett always knew what emotion was prevalent. As the days wore down to his departure from Charleston, jealousy was uppermost in her heart. She was jealous of every minute of his day, and even a bit brusque with the baby when she fed him, anxious to make the most of every moment she had with her husband.

"God's nightgown, Rhett," she said, "you never took so much time to do business before."

He smirked at her in reply. "I have my business to do just as you do yours. I imagine this arrangement, where you have so much time to yourself, is just the sort of marriage you wanted each of the times you first got married."

"Except for the bedroom part," she sighed. "I didn't want the bedroom part at all back then, and now I miss it when you're not home."

Rhett should have been edified. His heart should have delighted in having so much of her attention concentrated upon him, but by day he watched her with a sort of cool detachment. Still, he indulged her by giving her the time he had free from meetings at the bank and the various tasks associated with a long trip.

They spoke for long moments about the Peachtree street house and how it would be changed. She had decided to start with Wade's room, because he would be leaving for college before too long and she wanted him to have the advantage as long as possible. "Scarlett," Rhett observed, "you do have some maternal feeling, after all."

"You do run on," she replied. He watched the way she asked Wade's opinion and how the boy who was reticent at first gave his opinions freely after a while. Rhett wondered if the result would be similar to Beauregard Wilkes' bedroom in Atlanta, but stayed silent. The boy would be influenced by one thing or another all his life. In the mean time it was good that Wade could speak his mind with his own mother.

The other room to be changed soon would be the parlor. Rhett completely agreed with that plan. "I think you'll have more frequent visitors of the sort you want if we make these changes," he said, indicating the notes Scarlett had written down.

"I had no idea it was that bad."

"There wasn't much to guide you at the time. The only things you saw when we built that house were either shabby or overdone."

"It's kind of you to say that, _now_ " she responded.

He was forced to look back at her. Had Scarlett learned sarcasm?

* * *

Rhett's own mother was not above trying to keep the visit a happy one. "I don't think we should hurry her into visiting her aunts, Rhett," she said one evening after Scarlett had gone upstairs with the baby.

"It would be highly improper for her to avoid them. They're dragons when they're crossed."

"I'm sure I know that as well as anyone," she said tartly. "Yet if she cut them completely and withdrew her funds, it would be their own fault. They were entirely too hard on her the other night. They're two of my dearest friends, but to comment so personally as that on such topics as soon as she'd greeted them was simply rude."

Rosemary's face was full of indignation. "I noticed at Tara that Suellen Benteen is the spirit and image of Pauline. She's very competitive, and I think they are too. She's fighting a battle they are picking with her mother. It's clear to me why Scarlett so rarely comes to Charleston. Why she ever goes to Tara is a bigger question."

"Her roots are in that red mud. If she can stay there a few weeks a year, she gets some nourishment and it strengthens her for everything else she does," Rhett mused. "She'll have to go over to her aunts before she leaves, though, won't she, Mother?"

"Yes, I believe she must. She needn't stay long, though. We'll wait until the day before she leaves for Atlanta. Rosemary and the older children will go with her and point out when it's time to come home for Jerry."

Scarlett had seen much of what she was expected to see in Charleston on earlier visits, but Rhett took her to the places that mattered to him. He bought a ridiculous baby carriage so that they could be seen walking along the Battery with the children. He also took her to the bank and the mercantile and the train depot so she could watch the machinery of business. "You do know how to show a girl a good time," she said with a twinkle in her eye. He knew yet a moment of surprise. In their cooler, more detached form of relationship, they seemed to enjoy each other's company far better.

She battled her fears when he took her on a boat ride, up one of the river tributaries, coming to rest at a dock that had been freshly built. He got out and moored the boat before reaching down to help her get out. "I knew you sailed, but I'd never—how could I possibly picture what this was like?"

His lip curled. "After all of our years of acquaintance and I still manage to surprise you. Mrs. Butler, this is how we keep our marriage fresh."

"Rhett." She shook her head, lips pressed tightly together.

"What is it?"

She shook her head and looked around. "Where are we?"

"This is my family's plantation, Butler's Point."

"I thought it was lost."

He guided her along the path up the riverbank. "So it is, in its way. They managed to hold on to it, but it's not much of a planation anymore." He sighed. "It was rice fields, way out to where you see that tree in the water over there. The marshes have taken much of it back."

"What a shame."

"It truly is."

They reached a point where they could see across the clearing, and Scarlett gasped with dismay. "Oh, Rhett! What a loss."

Did it warm his heart that she felt it the way he had? "The Yankees trampled through the house, taking everything of value, and then burned it."

There was horror in her eyes, but she couldn't seem to look away. "I'm so sorry."

Rhett shook his head. "It's gone, just like so much else is gone. I think this is what killed Father. He survived the war and the loss of the town home, but the devastation of this took him."

"They tried to burn Tara down, you know."

"Miss Melly loved to tell that tale. Nothing but you could have saved it, according to her."

"And while you were saving me, this was happening. I'm so sorry."

"I brought you here because I wanted to show you something." He guided her a few steps into a field that looked like native grasses, almost to her waist.

"What is this?"

"This is rice. That last planting has been here for years, re-seeding and taking over."

She gasped and fingered some of the tall, grassy leaves, a smile of pure delight on her face. "I never would have thought…" She looked up at him again. "So this is where you came from."

"Yes." They turned and started walking back toward the boat.

"Would you like to return to it? To build it back up?"

"Would I?" He looked around, unwilling to admit to her that he'd kept the land in his family, paying the taxes on it, with some idea of doing something with it. "I don't know. Perhaps my brother will."

"I haven't met your brother."

"Nor will you on this trip. Thomas still agrees with Father that I shouldn't be seen by the family nor anyone else decent. I'm afraid that leads him to some conclusions about you."

"Fiddle dee dee. That just makes him like most of Atlanta."

Rhett had to give her credit for forthrightly admitting her situation. He gave her his hand to help her down the steep path back down to the river. The boat bobbed along beside the dock, waiting for them. Rhett put a foot in and when the boat was steady enough to suit him, he offered his hand to Scarlett. "You could have Rosemary do something with it," she offered.

"Rosemary?"

"At Tara, she was very interested in what we did. I think she might like something besides going out calling endlessly and all of those charities. She wants to see the world be rebuilt. One of the places she goes regularly is the home for Confederate Veterans. I'm sure she can find plenty of good men who could help her, if she had the means to do something like that."

It was worth a thought. Rhett made sure she was settled before letting out the sail. He cautioned her that the boom was coming around and then adjusted the rudder, letting them out into the stream.

* * *

Rhett passed along the suggestion that evening.

"Whatever will she think of, next?" asked Rosemary.

"She's so clever and original," said Rosalyn with a smile. "No wonder her aunts don't like her."

"There's something in her that sees a thing and immediately considers how to make it pay," said Rhett.

"It's not a half bad idea," said Rosemary. "I wish there was time before you had to leave, Rhett. We could have started this fall."

"It won't hurt the land to rest another year," he answered.

Rosemary smiled. "Well, I'll just have to think about it and make discreet inquiries. Do you want rice for it?"

"I think we should harvest what's there to see what it will bring and keep some rice as a legacy, but there are crops that can be grown more efficiently. Retaking the marsh land will be tedious at best." He stood up.

"It's your property, Rhett."

"It's all of ours, Rosemary. We all grew up there, even Thomas."

"All right then, I'll find out what I can, and when you're back we can discuss it."

"I'll look forward to it."

* * *

Scarlett was in her bed when he got upstairs.

"You're done with the baby already?"

"He went right down. Wade and Ella sat with me. They're enjoying the rides around town and visiting with the children here."

"Without Atlanta's preconceived notions they have a chance to spread their wings."

"Yes." She was quiet a moment and then sat up and put her arms around her knees. "I think you should take Wade out on your sailboat."

"It doesn't make you nervous?" He laid his jacket on the seat of her vanity and started unbuttoning his vest.

"Of course it does, but you know what you're doing. I won't worry a bit if he's out with you… well, maybe just a little bit. He'll have that to tell his friends at school, that he went out to sail with the great blockade runner."

"Are you trying to butter me up?"

"I'd be a fool not to take advantage of that sort of opportunity for him." Her smile was honest if a little flirtatious.

"How can I resist? I will do that tomorrow while you're at the dressmaker."

"It's a good thing for a boy to do, isn't it?"

"A necessary thing in this town."

"Boston is on a river and the ocean, just like Charleston. He should have some experience with boats before he goes, I think."

He finished undressing and eased in next to her. "You're full of risks."

"Not very large ones."

"There's one possible significant one, Scarlett. If there's a child…"

"The doctor said it wouldn't happen." She put her finger over his lips. "But if he's wrong… You said you wouldn't risk your heart a third time. What if you skip over the third time and allow for a fourth?"

He laughed and pushed her hand away. "That's cheating, but I'll concede your point since it's dressed so nicely." He pulled her close and started investigating the ties on her nightgown.

They managed to fill the days as well as they could, but there was no stopping the clock. Rhett's last night came, and Scarlett would be taking the children back to Atlanta a few days later. Wade was allowed to have dinner with the adults that night, a sign that he was growing up. Rhett reflected that the next time he saw the boy he would be much taller.

Ella was brought down to the library afterward to wish Uncle Rhett safe travels. They sat together for some minutes while she told him a story of something the children had done in town that day. He laughed as she finished and told her that she'd done well for herself. He gave her an extra hug and kiss, and then the two children went up to bed.

"I must say I've never seen a more charming family," said Rhett's mother. "You clearly all love each other."

Rhett turned a bland eye in her direction just as Scarlett quietly said, "Thank you, Miss Rosalyn."

"Mother, let's not confuse this for what it is."

"What is it, my boy? You're married, your many kindnesses to each other have been remarked upon by everyone who's met you, and unless I'm very much mistaken, you're spending the nights in your wife's bedroom."

Rhett saw Scarlett's face flame up. "Mother, it's not like that."

"It's exactly like that, Rhett. You're having some sort of crisis, but you're still doing the things good husbands and wives do. Heaven knows it's as good as much of your father's and my marriage."

"You were never shrill or contrary to Father!"

"Well maybe I should have been! Perhaps I wouldn't have lost more than twenty years with one of my children!"

"Miss Scarlett…" Prissy stood just outside the door, holding Jerry.

She stood up, her face still quite red, and said, "I believe that's my cue to say goodnight. Rhett, do you want…" Her question drifted. She clearly didn't know what to ask.

He smiled at her, gently. "I'll say my good byes to him and you later."

"Very well." She turned. "Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss Rosalyn. It was a fine dinner."

She took the child from the girl and carried him up the stairs.

Rhett turned toward his sister. "Rosemary, if you'll come with me to the study, there are a few last details to go over. I have a bank account set up for your use, and there are also powers of attorney for the property and a couple of other items.

Rosalyn looked like she would continue the previous conversation but instead closed her mouth and shook her head. She patted Rosemary's hand and went back toward the kitchen.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks to all the readers and reviewers, including **Melody-Rose-20, Truckee Gal, gumper, Romabeachgirl1981, kanga85, gabyhyatt, samandfreddie, and .**_


	14. Chapter 14

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Scarlett started scolding Rhett the moment he came into the room. "Why couldn't you just agree with her for half an hour? Now you're leaving angry."

"I don't want to be a hypocrite, and I always leave angry."

"Is it hypocritical to be kind?"

"Sometimes!"

"You're such a mean varmint sometimes!"

"Congratulations, you told me what you've really been thinking, and you're not a hypocrite, at least not this minute."

"Well then, you're lily-livered, too."

He stopped and looked at her. "I'm what?"

"You have a yellow stripe clear down the back of your beautifully tailored suit. You're a coward, all right?"

He reached out and grasped her wrist. "How can you say that?"

"Because life's a fact. Sometimes it's good, and a lot of times it's Yankees marching straight through your mother's dining room. But you don't leave every three weeks to get away from it. Most of us don't have the means. We have to dig in and make the best of what is. We have to live the life that's in front of us and try to make something of it."

She wasn't wrong, which meant something dangerous. "What's broken is broken," he said, repeating himself, he knew. When had he said that before?

"Things have to be broken," she said quietly. "The ground has to be broken to grow crops, or to build things like that horrible house in Atlanta. Broken isn't always bad. It's just an irrevocable change. Fabric and timber have to be cut to make clothes and build things, too. And Rhett, please explain to me why there's always an argument the night before you leave? It's always the biggest argument, as though you're trying to justify abandoning us. We haven't really fought this whole visit until tonight."

He sighed while clenching and unclenching his hands. She _wasn't_ wrong, and well to her ability to take her life and change the shape of it when faced with something incontrovertible. He approved and despised her for that skill.

"God help the Yankees."

"What's that?"

"I'm leaving, and you're going back to Atlanta soon, and you will lick everything and everyone that stands in your path," he said. "There's something admirable in that even if I can't admire it properly."

"Oh, Rhett," she said, and he pulled her onto his lap to start unfastening her dress.

* * *

When Prissy knocked on the door in the early morning, Rhett got up to take the baby from her. "Thank you, Prissy," he said. He sat on the bed for a few minutes, cradling Gerald against his chest. Gerald snuggled for a moment but quickly made it clear he wanted something different. "Scarlett." Rhett tapped her shoulder.

"Hm?" She saw the baby and sat up. "It's that time already? Why didn't you wake me?"

He chuckled. "I'm waking you now. You were too tired to hear Prissy at the door."

A moment later, Jerry was getting his meal and Rhett was watching, his head tilted. "I've yet to decide if I'm content or jealous to watch you and him like this." He didn't need light to know she was blushing dark red. "You seem to enjoy it."

"It just makes me feel as though everything around me will be right somehow. Thank you for it."

"I'm not sure what you're thanking me for."

"You made the baby possible, didn't you?"

"I did, and I'm still not sure about another one so soon."

"You almost sound like you're expecting it. The doctor said it was almost impossible."

"He didn't know you like I know you. You eat impossible for breakfast with your toast and grits."

Scarlett switched the baby around, and Rhett sat back against the headboard, pulling her to lean against him.

"Are your things all packed?"

"There are one or two things to go into my valise. My big trunk is already at the train station. I'm leaving this for you." He pulled a night shirt out from under his pillow and laid it over the baby. Her free hand moved to touch it and she patted his hand in the process.

"You're really going," she said in a very small voice. "You don't know how I'll miss you."

He reached over to the bedside table for a handkerchief and handed it to her. "But I do know that you can survive anything."

He quietly stepped out of the room just after daylight, dressed for travel. He wouldn't let Scarlett come downstairs. She was exhausted from the talking—and other things—that had happened during the night and the baby was due a feeding at any moment. He told her to sleep in; he could nap on the train.

"Scarlett's not coming down?"

"I wouldn't let her. She's exhausted and I couldn't stand to see her, the devastation on her face. It makes me do things like steal horses just this side of the knacker."

"You work well together."

"It's only because we're not together for more than a week or two. I nearly threw her off the balcony last night."

"What did you do to her instead?"

Rosalyn Butler was the only person alive who could make her son blush, a fact she smugly enjoyed over the rim of her Limoges coffee cup.

* * *

Rhett pondered the question as the train pulled out of Charleston. Why did he keep coming back, and why wasn't it enough to simply stay all the time? Aside from the obvious, he reminded himself. Scarlett wasn't terribly likable. She'd managed to unite several warring factions within Atlanta in their universal dislike of her, as a matter of fact. He had to admit that even when he encouraged her to treat those people as she and he felt they deserved, he didn't really like her, either. He did enjoy seeing them get told the honest truth, he had to admit, but it didn't make her likeable.

He did like her, though. She had such fire and flare. She was full of energy to get things done, to build a new world around herself. Now that she knew what she was doing, she brought that energy to the bedroom, too, changing how he saw relations between men and women forever. She wasn't bad to talk things over, either. She showed real acumen in discussing her plans and even when occasionally going over some of his.

At the end of the day, he had to admit he liked being around her and being with her… except when he didn't. She could be impossible and bull-headed, especially where that fantasy romance with Ashley was concerned. That seemed to be truly gone, however, and it wasn't replaced by anything equally diaphanous, unless it was her love for him.

Her love for him was proving harder to shake. He was sure he couldn't want it, but at the same time he knew he was starting to depend upon it. It was the damn night shirt. He'd always wondered in the past why certain ones weren't available, when Pork had given him a straight-faced shake of the head, only for them to show up weeks later while another was missing. Now that he knew what had happened to them, a side of him was caught up in the romance of it, even to the point where he was participating.

Memories of the arguments kept him from getting off the train in Atlanta. They had some horrible arguments, and while at one time he enjoyed them, spiking her guns and watching her go up in flames, now they hurt. He didn't want to hurt her, and still less did he like being hurt when she returned fire with her sharp tongue. The potential for other pain kept him back, too. He couldn't lose another child. He couldn't lose his wife like he'd lost her almost as soon as he'd married her. Scarlett and most people might learn how to deal with their lives after they were broken, but Rhett would not, could not. He would simply be a nomad until life stopped having the potential to hurt him.

This system they'd worked out over the last year, of spending weeks together and then months apart, seemed to be working. They could enjoy the bedroom together and conversations about business and family or town goings on, but as soon as the arguments started, Rhett could leave and they'd each have a pleasanter life without the other for a while until they missed each other again. He chuckled to himself. This might be the perfect marriage after all. Maybe his mother was right.

* * *

The mine in California hadn't done much since he'd left it in the fifties. It had stood almost entirely empty, after he'd gotten what was easily obtained as of the time he'd been there. There were other entities now, companies with investors, who bought machines to help look for the next layer of gold and were efficient enough to make it worth the while. These people made him offers. These offers wouldn't make little Gerald rich, but he would be much better off than the other children in Atlanta.

He bought himself a pickaxe and helmet, a lantern and gloves, and all the other accouterments, and spent an afternoon playing around, never going very deep, just seeing if he had any sort of taste for this type of work anymore. He didn't, and he had no desire to bring Gerald—or Wade—to see if they were any good at it. He went back and signed paperwork with one of the companies that seemed to be the best fit for his land, and came away with the promise of a lump sum for ownership of the land, plus a nice yearly income. He would set aside the proceeds of the sale for Gerald. He cabled Rosemary about the income, telling her the dollar amount she could use to make any improvements to the plantation that she felt were necessary in the short term. There might be buildings to raise or equipment to obtain.

Rhett spent some time in San Francisco, staying in the best hotel and eating in the best restaurants while looking for the places he'd frequented in earlier days. When he could find a store or saloon, they'd changed hands several times over and had been made over to accommodate a more genteel population. There was no face he could recognize. San Francisco had undergone the same transformation he had. Something more refined had come along and changed it away from the rough and tumble world it had once been. When the concierge suggested a couple of discreet saloons Rhett might want to go to in order to find companionship, it was time to book passage on a ship. He looked through the offerings for the next couple of days and decided upon one that went to Japan. Then one that went from San Diego to Hawaii caught his attention; the ship would continue to Japan. He could make it if he took the first morning train.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks to the readers and reviewers, including **samandfreddie, gabyhyatt, kanga85, Guest 1 & 2, Romabeachgirl1981, Truckee Gal, Kinderby,** and **AnnetheQueen83**_


	15. Chapter 15

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

 _Author Note: This may seem a bit rushed; that's because it is. There's a bit of travelogue in this chapter although there might be a few interesting tidbits. I feel it's necessary but I wanted to get on with it._

Hawaii was a revelation. Sailing into Honolulu was like nothing Rhett had ever seen before. He was familiar with palm trees and had been to the Caribbean Islands several times in his travels to avoid Union blockade boats. He'd even seen volcanoes before, but he'd never seen a whole chain of island after island of volcanoes in various stages of growth and dormancy, covered by lush green palm trees. He debarked long enough to pack a small crate with some odds and ends. A skirt, made from layers of the leaves of local trees, a small replica of the boats the natives used, various items that were supposedly toys, and several coconuts, all wrapped securely in excelsior and sent to Mrs. Scarlett Butler of Peachtree Street, Atlanta, USA.

The women were beautiful in a way he'd never seen before. They were so open and welcoming. He had decided to follow one who beckoned except something in the way she swayed, a trick in the light, made him think of the Scarlett of years before, swaying in her hoop skirts. He stopped then and there, suddenly so homesick that he was nearly ill on the pathway. He handed some coin to the girl and apologized, saying that he decided not to join her after all. He waited for the signal to return to the ship from the veranda of a shady bar he found near the dock. He could imagine sitting on that beach for the rest of his life, soaking in the tranquility, but he needed something other than one of those young women, lovely though they may be.

* * *

Japan was something he'd heard about but never thought to experience. He arrived too late in the season to climb Mount Fuji to the top, but he'd heard that it was an important pilgrimage so he climbed to the point where there was a place to sit down and look back on Tokyo. His guide had timed their hike such that when they stood at the spot they had intended to reach, he could see the sun rise. Rhett's breath was caught in his throat as he thought of the date and realized that just a year before he and Scarlett had parted ways at the train station on that day, unaware that she was pregnant. He thought for just a moment of his young son and then also of his stepchildren.

He spent the first week in Japan sitting quietly in shrines while the natives chanted their meditations, sipping tea served to him by a beautiful young woman, and walking through the paths designed for soothing the mind. He thought to himself that this could be the place he stayed for his life as well. It was quite graceful and soothed him in some undefinable way. Yet something kept him back from trying to seek out permanent lodgings.

He spent several days of the next week at the shops, filling another packing crate bound for Atlanta. He bought a full traditional kimono for Scarlett, including the robe, underclothes, obi for her waist and zori sandals. He finished it off with the most garish head dress he could find for her hair. He hoped that if she ever figured out how to wear it she would have pictures taken. With her coloring and slight size, she would be as stunning as many of the women he saw here. He found a child's kimono outfit for Ella, similar to but simpler than her mother's. For Wade he found a wooden replica of a ceremonial sword, and small toys for the baby.

While he was shopping, he passed a stall with something that shocked him. It was filled with pottery that had lines of silver and gold running through it. Some just had one or two such lines while others were spider-webbed with it. "What is this?"

"Kintsugi," answered the shop-keeper

"Kin-sugi?"

He nodded. "Kintsugi."

"Kintsugi." He nodded his thanks. He went to the hotel and spoke with the concierge, who sent him down with an interpreter the next day.

"Yes, Kintsugi," said the interpreter.

"I wouldn't say it's beautiful, but it's quite striking," said Rhett.

"The beauty is based usually upon love for the original piece," said the interpreter. "Do you see the ones on the back shelf up there? Those are made for particular people who brought their pieces and will come back to get them. But I get ahead of myself. They are made from dishes that crack or break. The craftsman takes the pieces and puts them back together. The basic mend is not pretty, so gold or silver is added to the cement, and the resulting design recognizes what has happened but allows for beauty to still shine through."

"I see. Thank you, again," said Rhett, bowing to both interpreter and shop keeper.

He went back to one of the temples he had visited and sat for several hours, letting the soothing chanting wash over him. He'd wanted serenity; this was the most serene place he'd ever been, but it wasn't providing any to him. A man who might have been European or American came up to him and said in an undertone, "British?"

"American," he answered.

"You've been here a while."

"I was… it soothed me."

"Forgive me, but I think if it truly soothed you, if you'd found what you were looking for, then you would have made your way down to a tea-house by now and had a meal."

Rhett chuckled nervously but nodded. "Yes, that's so. I can't figure it out."

"Why don't you join me for a cup? I was just headed over there."

Rhett followed him. They were sitting with tea and edibles and Rhett tilted his head and said, "Rhett Butler of Charleston, South Carolina."

He held his hand over the table and the other man took it. "Freddy Stanhope, Ithaca, New York."

Rhett chuckled, "So are you a Yankee or a damned Yankee?"

"Oh a damned Yankee. Why be average when you can be superlative? Are you a Johnny Reb by any chance?"

"Guilty, although I enlisted after the war was lost."

"Why on earth would you do such a thing?"

Rhett sighed, and reached for the easy joke. "There was a woman..."

"Isn't there always?"

"Indeed. So what brought you to Japan?"

"The Navy, there's a delegation and I'm useful with the negotiations. And now there's a woman."

Both men chuckled.

"I was in West Point until a certain prank went horribly wrong," said Rhett, "but other than those few months at the end of the war, I never saw action."

"Come now, Captain Butler. I knew I recognized you. You were quite a threat on that little boat you had. We crossed paths near Frying Pan Shoals."

Memory flooded Rhett. "I remember that. That was your little ship?" The hairs on the back of Rhett's neck went up. "I hope we meet as friends here. Captain Stanhope."

"We do indeed, and it's Commander. I never achieved quite the glory of one of the big vessels. I could have stopped you that day if I had." He smirked. "Then again I might have made Captain if I had stopped you."

"Indeed, those guns on the larger boats were not to be trifled with, as I told anyone who would listen. The men of that world all wanted to fight. As for me, I quit blockade running after I finally lost you by Cape Lookout. I was in it for the money and a little excitement. When it got dangerous, I was done."

They sipped their tea companionably.

"What brought you to the shrine?" asked Freddy.

Rhett sighed. "I can't seem to see what they all see in it. Doesn't it get tedious after a while?"

"I suppose it does. I've gotten used to it after being here so long. The mindset is so different from our own but not wrong. They like to find a harmony in nature. It's very soothing. It's helped me to accept the damage done to me by the war."

"I wish I found whatever that is. I went to a stand where they sell… Kintsugi? Yes, that was it. I can't understand how something broken can be fixed as good as new."

Freddy shrugged. "No one said it can be as good as new. That golden cement ensures that something extra is added, that no one will ever see it the same way. By the time it's done, however, hopefully there's something new and beautiful built on what had been lovely but then broken."

Christmas hit while Rhett was still in Japan. It surprised him to realize that he didn't feel the pain of Bonnie's death. It might have been part of the charm of this place where Christmas was, for the most part, just another day. He needn't mourn his daughter, because there was no significance in missing her.

Then he found that tears were running down his face. It was somehow sacrilegious to not remember the sadness of his life. He went down to the market and stopped at the Kintsugi stall. There was a new item, and he knew that it was there for him. A delicate bone china cup of creamy white, covered by green flowers, sat on its matching saucer. The pattern was similar to the dress Scarlett was wearing when he first saw her. There were just two breaks, caused by something in the manufacturing process, if he understood the seller, and one large chip filled in with gold cement on the saucer. He bought it and packed it in the valise he kept with him, carefully wrapped in soft cloths. Now several lovely things found their way into the crate he was packing, including several lengths of the prettiest fabrics he could find and fascinating toys that the children might like. He sent it home. It was time to leave Tokyo.

* * *

Rhett took in the sights of Hong Kong, following the movements of the martial arts exercises, and found another American delegation, another person who would explain what he was watching. It didn't help. He couldn't for the life of him understand how waving one's arms around while shifting weight could help him balance his energy better. He copied some of the positions in his bedroom and didn't feel a difference. Yet it came to him that in the discipline of practice, of always knowing where the movements led, one could, over time, achieve a power through the movements, as he had done when learning to sail, to fence, and to shoot.

He took out the cup and traced the lines. Rosemary said that Scarlett was trying to develop new habits, adjust her way of being. Would the new movements she was learning add strength and beauty to her? Could he admit to himself that they had already?

He lost his way one night and a man offered to find him companionship. The fact that the house in question trained their employees in Shanghai was supposed to be a selling point. A different Rhett Butler might have agreed, but this one couldn't stop picturing Scarlett sitting on his bed and smiling at him while she fed his son. Another crate was filled and sent home. He was done with China.

* * *

There were weeks of voyaging before Rhett's ship reached Bombay in India. Visitors were cautioned against going too far into the countryside due to the rioting in the country and possibility that riots could start anywhere. It might have appealed to his younger self, but it was not what he wanted now. It seemed that travelling in the subcontinent would not happen. Perhaps Agra and the Taj Mahal were better left unexplored for now. He didn't need to know how some men honored their wives when he couldn't decide what he felt for his own. He found his way to a marketplace where he found silks with different striking beauty to those in China or France. A new crate was obtained, and he found quite a few things of interest to place in it. It was quickly filled and posted; he was on the ship when it sailed the next day.

He found himself in Cairo next, and spent a week traveling to the Pyramids and the Sphinx. He took a day off on the anniversary of Bonnie's death and mourned her properly, remembering how difficult it had been when he nearly forgot Christmas. He was given a beautiful day and filled it by loading a crate with the sorts of things she would have purchased, carpets and spices and other things, all with some sort of flower or design worked into the fabric or pottery in blue.

He crossed the Mediterranean and went to Athens, and then to Rome. He traveled by rail from there, stopping for days or weeks at a time in various cities, packing boxes whenever he had accumulated enough to send home. He was vaguely interested in the women he saw, and yet when he would have followed one or another he invariably found himself in his hotel, staring at the lines of gold on the cup in his hands. Suddenly it was well into June, and Rhett realized that if there was another baby, it would have been born by now.

Had his trip around the world changed him? Rhett wasn't sure. He kept tracing the golden lines on the teacup and trying to find a sense in accepting that some of the things in his life were broken but that they were growing in new and lovely ways, even in spite of him. There still was no sense in Bonnie's death or in the loss of the other child. All he felt was loss. Losing himself in different forms of alcohol and travel had not helped enough to justify continuing. He might as well go home. Perhaps something interesting might be there and in the meanwhile he'd seen some things that gave him some ideas. The grace and dignity he'd looked for eluded him, yet in their absence perhaps some of the other things he'd noticed might prove lucrative.

 _A/N: Thank you to the lovely readers and reviewers including **samandfreddie, Guest, Romabeachgirl1981, gabyhyatt, Love,** **Truckee Gal,** and **kanga85.** Your kind attention is greatly appreciated._


	16. Chapter 16

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rhett arrived back in Atlanta on the first Sunday of August. People were swarming all over the lawns at the Peachtree Street house. He could only wonder where Scarlett might be in all the tumult.

"Captain Butler! We thought we might never see you again," said a vaporous older lady sitting under a canopy that had been erected for the party.

Rhett bowed over her hand and answered, "Miss Hamilton, I've been around the world, but I could never forget Atlanta and the dear ladies I've met here."

"Oh," she said, fluttering her fan over her face.

"Butler!" cried a voice he knew as Henry Hamilton. The man shook his hand and pulled him close. "It's treacherous water here, boy. You've been gone a long time." He took a step back and looked him over. "It must agree with you, though. Been drinking less?"

Rhett smiled wryly. "Fewer places to find a good whisky in Egypt, Henry."

"You must be anxious to see your wife. Why don't I walk with you?" He wasn't really asking, and together the men went in the direction of the back yard. "I think I heard her say something about croquet." They took a few steps, and Henry leaned close again. "Don't look now, but you've attracted an entourage. They're expecting a scene. For Scarlett's sake, I ask you not to give them one."

They arrived in the back yard and saw Scarlett bent over a toddling Gerald and a ball, pretending to have the child wield the mallet upon the ball. Over on the side, Wade and Ella were pretending to cheer for the baby, until Ella saw Rhett.

"Uncle Rhett!" screamed the girl, who ran to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rhett saw Wade take a step in his direction but then pause and look toward his mother. Rhett's own eyes were on Scarlett, wondering what she would do. Would she welcome him? He saw joy first. Then he saw hurt and fear and rage, but she glanced behind him and saw all of the other people, so it was all carefully covered over with resignation. When she spoke her voice was as airy as the belle of three counties could make it.

"Captain Butler! I had no idea we'd see you today. I would have done something besides a flimsy old barbecue."

"My dear, whatever you do is sure to be an event." He stepped close to her and kissed the cheek she offered. He stayed close a second too long and breathed in her scent. "I missed you."

She too breathed in deeply and let out a soft sigh as she breathed back out. Her eyes softened. "I missed you, too."

Wade had joined the two. "Welcome home sir," he said, holding out his hand. Rhett caught a glimpse of anger in his face. He'd have to find out about that later. Rhett went down on his knee to greet Ella, who gave him a big hug and a kiss. While he was bent down, he picked up Gerald and stood back up, looking at the baby as he did. The child's fists beat on his father's head and Rhett laughed aloud.

"Our son is full of mettle. You've produced a boy to be proud of, my dear."

"Fiddle dee dee," she answered, overcome.

"Do you suppose our guests would be offended if we went inside for some privacy?"

She handed the baby to Prissy and quietly said, "Perhaps the study?"

He followed her and, when he saw they were finally alone asked, "There wasn't a baby?"

"Of course not. Did you want one?"

"No, but I wondered from time to time."

She shrugged. "I told you it was next to impossible."

He sat at his desk and noticed that the chair was no longer adjusted to his height. He then realized that the desk contained a book and a pamphlet, both concerning Texas.

"I thought you don't want a divorce."

"I don't."

"I didn't think Texas would be of interest anymore."

"It isn't—"

"Clearly it is."

"I had no idea what you were doing or planning. It's been a _year_ , Rhett."

"I sent you all those crates."

Tears he couldn't understand were in her eyes. "Such wonderful things, Rhett. Some of them…" She gestured, and he saw a new bookcase in the office, containing displays of many things he'd found on his travels.

"You made my trip beautiful."

"We tracked you on the atlas as your boxes came. Ella drew a map."

He found that his valise had been brought to this study and opened it to take out the teacup and saucer. There was an empty spot, just about at his eye level when he stood. He unwrapped his precious souvenirs and placed them there.

"I don't…" She was looking at it, tilting her head as she did.

"You don't what?"

"I don't understand it, but I like it."

"That's the best explanation for why I bought it." He returned and tapped the book on his desk. "What's this about Texas?"

"I thought I might have to leave."

"You have this town in the palm of your hand."

" _Had_. It's all gone so wrong." She folded her arms around herself as though she were cold.

"I don't understand. I thought you'd be delighted to see me."

"Rhett, I am delighted, and angry, and you know I love you and I love what I've been able to build of my life."

"Then perhaps we could go upstairs?"

A flash of fury went over her face before she covered it over. "Rhett…" She was formulating. She didn't know how to say what she was thinking.

He leaned over the desk and spoke in a low voice. "How long before they leave?'

"Rhett, your son was rolling over a week after you left. Your mother and sister were delighted."

"Bright lad."

"They were feeding him solid food a month later. At four months he cut his first tooth. By six months he was crawling. At eight months he was saying, 'Da.' He finally said, 'Ma,' at ten months and by his first birthday was walking. He stomps all over the house and orders people around in nonsensical language at the top of his lungs all day."

"Scarlett, I can't compare…"

The desk was between them, but she was shaking with rage hard enough for him to see her. "It's not for you to compare," she grated out. "It's for you to know. He's your son, after all. But you left us at Tara the day after he was born, and then you left us in Charleston," her voice became a hiss as she pointed at the French doors. "And all of _them_ know it."

He started to lose his temper. "You know why I left. You know that—"

"I do, and I can't blame you for it. I made the bed we slept in and you've been very clear and also very generous in many ways. But oh _damn_ , Rhett."

As he'd done so many times that it was instinct, he'd pulled his handkerchief out. She reached for it and took it on her way out of the room, brushing past a person who stood just outside the door. A moment later he heard her feet pounding up the back stairs as she ran to her room. Rhett fixed the chair to his height and sat back in it, sighing heavily. He looked at the desk, fingering the book.

"Bit of a spitfire, that one."

Rhett looked and saw a tall man in a cassock. He stood and walked toward the door. "I don't believe we've met, Father…"

"Enoch Halloran, Captain Butler."

"Do I detect a hint of my father-in-law's homeland in your voice?"

"More than a hint."

"I'm surprised to see a priest here, listening to private conversations."

"Eh, the fine folk of Atlanta keep their distance when I guard doorways, which offers some privacy to you, and a priest who gossips would quickly be out of a job."

"Are you part of the household, now?"

"I stop by a few days a week. She's trying to keep me fed, the same as she's feeding the others out there."

"I had no idea that she had spent time in church these days."

"We ran into each other while working on a project for the veterans not long before she went to Tara when young Jerry was born. She's yet to come fully back into the arms of her mother Church, but she's curious… and clever."

Rhett made a derisive sound. Suddenly something occurred to him. "I don't suppose you've taught her anything about St. Augustine?"

"She was a fair bit distressed when we met. I took care of her immediate problem with the veterans, but then she confided some worries to me. I was able to reassure her that her generosity was genuine even if she came to it through a back door of wanting to please her late sister-in-law. Saint Augustine was an example of someone who lived a life of dissipation before learning virtue."

Rhett pondered it for a moment and nodded.

"She mentioned you might not take to a priest, but you sound like a rational man who wouldn't mind speaking to another rational man."

Rhett shrugged. "Care for some whisky?"

"I was taught by my pa to only rarely refuse a drink."

When the glasses were set on the desk and filled, both men sat down and sipped. Rhett was lost in whatever intrigue was going on and perhaps this man could help him. "I don't suppose you can explain what she just said."

"Ah, 'tis a sad thing, when tongues wag unnecessarily. The trouble, Captain Butler, began the day your poor wife arrived back in Atlanta with a brand new baby and a husband who'd barely met the baby before leaving her."

"I'd been planning that trip for a while."

"I'm aware of that, and your wife is, too, but just consider. You left her side the day after the child was born. Soon after they followed you to your native city, you left again. The tongues decided that meant you didn't think the baby was yours."

"All of them?"

"To a man. More importantly, every woman."

Rhett refilled his glass, but saw that the priest's glass was hardly touched beyond the first sip. "What serpent-tongued creatures would spread that sort of—" realization dawned, connecting the two places. "There were two of them, perhaps assisted by a third?"

"I see you've hit on the wee evil aunties and poor Scarlett's own sister. Henry Hamilton suggested them as a possibility, and as fate or the Good Lord would have it, I went to seminary with the priest of their parish church in Charleston. The story was soon out, and the poor women sobbed to their pastor that they had no real idea of course but since dear Suellen mentioned how quickly you left her house, they found it so odd that Scarlett would have chased you away from your mother's own home. You see where it went from there."

"I do indeed, although I'm sure Scarlett told you that she begged me to stay?"

"The woman is loyal to a fault and tries not to blame you, but she did allow that your absence was not of her choosing. She mentioned that even at the times when your marriage was at its worst, she always preferred you to be around than to be left without you."

"She's spent the last year in misery, no doubt." The voice coming from him sounded flat, impersonal.

"I don't think so. I've stopped by of an evening from time to time to discover her bitterly mourning for you, but on the whole, I think she's found ways to work and prosper her works, building her little empire and hoping you will admire it. She's content as such."

"She did it for money, or to show that she's a better businessman than half the city."

"'She hath considered a field, and bought it: with the fruit of her hands she hath planted a vineyard…'"

It did sound like Scarlett. "Something in the Bible?"

"Indeed, Proverbs. 'Who shall find a valiant woman?' Women who know their way in business are not unknown in the world. She's not wasted away for love of you, though she hasn't forgotten her love, either. She's learned how to use it."

"Can I _possibly_ be worthy of her?" He used his most mocking tone, but the priest answered him seriously.

"I think if you keep asking that question and looking for ways you can make the answer 'yes,' you will make a grand husband for her. It's what she's trying to do for your sake."

Rhett felt himself on the wrong foot. "I just don't know," he said. His eyes looked up and saw the teacup. For some reason it calmed him.

Father's eyes followed his and he stood to look at it. "Kintsugi?"

"You've heard of it?"

"I've never seen it. What cunning workmanship. May I?"

If the man had asked to hold Scarlett in his hands, Rhett couldn't have felt it more. He swallowed the thought. "Certainly."

"Beautiful. The cup, it's like her?" Father Halloran brought them over to the desk and sat the saucer on it but held the cup a moment longer.

"I had that thought. The dress she wore when I first met her had similar flowers on it."

"And she depends upon you just like this." The cup was set on the saucer. "She's perfectly functional without you, but she's part of a complete pair with you."

"I wouldn't go that far—"

"But she does."

"I'm not going to lie. I'm still not sure I can accept this life—"

"Don't lie. She appreciates when you tell the truth. You can tell her she's doing good and worthy things and even, I think, that you take a certain amount of pride in those things? She does nothing but speak of you."

"She never speaks of her mill and gin?"

"Oh, we discuss her enterprises constantly, but usually it comes up that she thinks you will approve of the things she's doing, or that she hopes you'll approve."

"I want her to do those things because she does them well and they're good business."

"Oh, she does, and if you never tell her you approve, she'll somehow take pride without your approval. She'd still rather have it." Rhett nodded as he poured himself some more whisky. Father's glass still had a few swallows in it.

"Are you trying to kill yourself, man?"

"I don't think so."

"That's the third drink since we've sat here just a few minutes ago."

"I—"

"She'd never forgive me if I let you hurt yourself."

"I need…"

"Do you?"

The conversation had come to—not an end, but it was at a pause.

Rhett had thought about following his wife upstairs for days. Since his latest ship had docked in Savannah he had thought of little besides kissing his wife, undressing her, and all that would follow. He should have realized he would need to pave the way, first. Her life in the past year had followed a different trajectory to his own, and it appeared that while his year had glimmered like gold, Scarlett had been tried by fire.

He found her in her room, sound asleep, his handkerchief as well as one of her own near her on the bed. There was little he could do with her except to perhaps help her achieve some sort of comfort. He unbuttoned her dress and then untied the corset strings beneath it.

"Rhett, I don't know…"

"Hush, you need your rest."

She sat straight up. "The party. I need to—"

"I'll take care of it."

"Rhett, what I said…"

"You were due. I never thought what you must be going through or considered how it would look."

"I'm glad you're home."

"So am I." He pulled her dress off and stopped long enough to kiss her. It was hard to stop. He would have to leave her now and go downstairs and be the host of the party, all the while knowing this woman was up here. He looked at her. She really was exhausted. "You rest. I'll be back and then you can welcome me home."

A/N: I'm always a bit nervous about adding major OCs to a story, but Father Halloran is necessary. I decided that Rhett needs therapy, or at least a sounding board, so there he is.

I was delighted at how much everyone likes the Kintsugi. I first ran across it while watching The Man in the High Castle and really liked the metaphor. I don't know exactly how I decided Rhett needed it, but there it was so I used it.

Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews, including **kanga85, gabyhyatt, Melody-Rose-20, samandfreddie, Romabeachgirl1981, Kinderby,** **Guest,** and **gogomohamad229**. I'm so sorry that I'm not able to respond to some of you due to the constraints of FFN. Whether you like what the characters are doing or not, whether you like where I'm taking it or not, you've let me know and I appreciate it.


	17. Chapter 17

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rhett went to the nursery and got his son, fresh from a quick nap and a small meal. Together they went down to where the guests were milling around the tables, eating the best meal they would have until September while whispering about Rhett's arrival. Gerald wasn't terribly sure who was holding him, and frowned frequently into his father's eyes. Rhett laughed as though it were a good joke and smiled to everyone as though they were all in on it together.

To himself, Rhett had to admit that the face looking at him was too much like his own. Surely no one could see the two together and think the child had any other father. Atlanta was nothing if not predictable. He could see the tide turn in postures and eyes. "Where is Scarlett?" asked Mrs. Elsing, a trifle suspiciously.

"Exhausted," answered Rhett. "She's worn out with planning this party, and on top of that her husband shows up from a voyage around the world without warning. She's quite overcome, and it's entirely because of me. You know how inconsiderate we husbands can be."

"There is that," he heard Mrs. Meade say in an undertone.

Fanny Elsing was whispering to Maybelle Merryweather, "If Scarlett's aunts had ever seen Captain Butler with the baby, how could they even question—" The two saw that they had Rhett's attention and broke off in embarrassment. He grinned and allowed his gaze to continue. He'd played this game before and won. He'd carried Bonnie around and made everyone think he was a devoted husband and father with a neglectful wife. He could do it again, except this time he'd make them see that Scarlett was as devoted as he. He walked along the table, exchanging greetings and chatting with the guests until it was time to send them on their way.

With a sigh of relief he gave the baby back to Prissy. "Miss Scarlett still rocks him to sleep at night, Mr. Rhett. He gets just one feeding every day before bed."

"I don't see any reason to change that as long as she's willing, Prissy." He continued to Wade's room and knocked the door. At being bid to answer, he stepped in. "You wanted to see me?"

"Not particularly."

He tried again. "There's something you wanted to say. I could see it in your face."

"How could you expose her to what she's had to listen to all this year?"

"Do you mind if I sit?"

Wade shrugged, so Rhett sat on the edge of the bed and leaned toward where Wade was sitting at his desk. "I'm sure you've realized that we have difficulties together."

"Everyone knows that."

"We also have moments that…" How could he explain it to a thirteen-year-old boy? "Well, we have moments that are pure perfection."

"All right?" Wade was expecting more.

"For the sake of the good moments, I've been trying to leave when the bad moments start to get in the way. It was starting to work, except this time I see it failed horribly. The timing of my departure was terrible and I was gone too long. I'm sorry that you've had to suffer for my oversight."

"It hasn't been me so much, but Mother… she's been crying a lot, after she thinks we're all in bed."

Rhett smiled sadly. "We will have to make her smile more." He looked around the room. "Has redecorating your room worked out for you?"

Wade looked around and nodded. "It's good. Everything I need for schoolwork is in here, and I like to relax here, too. Mother tried very hard to find a way to make it what I like."

They shook hands, although Rhett could see that the boy still hadn't completely forgiven him, and then Rhett went to check on Ella, who read a story to _him_ this time.

"They've grown so much," said Rhett in Scarlett's room. He found her in her dressing gown, eating an enormous plate of barbecue left over from the party.

"Wade has been trying so hard to protect me. I've tried to explain that so much of it is my own fault, but he's got his father's ideas about women."

"I hope you don't believe it's your job to ruin those ideas for him."

"No! I want him to have a mother who is worthy of him. I think he likes me well enough even if I'm nothing like Mother or Melly."

"I wouldn't have given you the time of day if you were like those two worthy women."

"We both know that's not true. You fawned all over Melly every time she was in the room, all while you were perfectly beastly to me." She leaned back from the table and pushed the plate away. "Please have some. I'll be sick if I eat another bite."

He picked up her fork and stabbed at some meat. Suddenly his nose and his heart were filled with the smell of home and he ate for several minutes, too. "She never interested me the way you do, and I always had to be a gentleman in her presence. I can be genuine with you."

"Genuine is not the same as honest. You never told me what you were looking for," she said almost in a whisper. She waved it off. He could tell she wanted to say something else but didn't want to start a fight. Finally she blurted it out. "Did you truly miss me at all?"

"I thought of you every day."

She grimaced. "You might have thought you were happy to be away from me. I mean did you wish I was with you?"

He sat back. wondering how best to explain it. "I wished you could have seen Hawaii. It was so peaceful there. No buildings to build and no people to please, just endless days to enjoy being alive."

"I hope you don't expect me to wear that skirt thing."

"Not unless you want to, and it would be purely a private viewing." He tugged on her hand and sat her on his lap. "I missed you in Japan. It was so beautiful and everything was so graceful, and so many things made me think of you."

"Really?"

"Everywhere I went, while I was looking at beautiful things and places, you were there with me. I would not have left here, certainly I wouldn't have gone so far away for so long, if I'd thought your aunts would be so vicious."

"I didn't think you would be gone forever, but you know how hard it can be when people start talking about you."

"I do, and for what it cost you, I'm sorry."

"I defended you and fought back at teas and sewing circles, but after a while, I started to think it would be better to leave town and find a place that didn't talk about me so much."

"And Texas, with its charms, bore further investigation."

"Something like that." She played with his wedding ring for a moment. He stared at it himself; he'd never even considered removing it. "Will you be staying long?"

"You know I can't answer that."

"Will you be staying in my room tonight?"

Rhett felt a smirk come to his lips. "Do I really have to answer that?" His hand slid within the open edge of her dressing gown, and she sighed as his lips found hers.

* * *

It was dawn when he awoke, his head aching with travel and more alcohol than he should have had. Scarlett was silhouetted against the edge of the bed. There was something maddening about the curve of her bare back as she reached for her wrapper and put it on. He ran his hand along her waist.

"Don't get up yet."

In an almost single motion, she stood up and tied the sash of her dressing gown. Then she leaned over and kissed his forehead. "There's much to do and I slept late as it is. Father Halloran will be here within the hour."

He sat up. "Whatever for?"

"He's been tutoring Wade for the entrance exams. He knows ever so much about Latin and Greek." She started looking through her underclothes. "He comes twice a week, straight from saying daily Mass, and I give him his breakfast." She put on several items and walked back to the bed so that he could work her laces.

"He's still young, isn't he?"

"It's only three years till he would— _will_ be leaving," she answered. "He was worried, and Father said it would be no trouble."

"So he's doing it out of the kindness of his heart? Or perhaps for his breakfast?"

"His church has a widows and orphans fund."

"Of course it does. How did you meet him?"

"It was before I went to Tara to have the baby. There was that annual event that Melly used to have for the veterans in the home. The dinner, you know. It was always so dreary, but Melly always did it and it was important to her. Some of those men were ones we cared for at the hospital and later at Tara.

"Suddenly, no one was able to do anything for them, and I couldn't do anything without exposing myself so close to having the child, and I decided to find out if the church could help. Father Halloran didn't scold me, and he found people who would help with the dinner if I made all the arrangements for it, which I did with nothing more than writing notes from the study."

"And what did the Old Guard have to say about that?"

"They weren't speaking to me, of course, but they took it back over this year. They barely let me know about it other than to request my usual donation."

Scarlett pulled the drapes on the eastern side of the room and came back to kiss Rhett's forehead again. "Sleep a little longer. You must be tired from travelling."

"And from returning home," he answered.

She paused at the door to smile saucily at him, and then she was gone.

He was tired, and had hoped to stay abed with his wife for several hours this morning, but it seemed he had reckoned without consulting his hostess. When the bell rang for breakfast, Rhett Butler was freshly bathed, shaved, and looking over the changes to the parlor. There were a few pieces she'd kept, ones that he knew she was particularly attached to, but the changes to the drapery and walls and combined with the newer furnishings to create a relaxing, harmonious room. The outside of the house might still be a nightmare, but the inside was becoming a lovely surprise.

"Captain Butler! You've set the bonnets wagging today," said Father as they shook hands.

"It's never been particularly difficult for me," he responded. "They can never decide whether they love me or hate me."

"The winds are charitable today," Father Halloran chuckled. "As I walked here, I noticed that many a good lady is already out with her market basket. Several stopped me on the street and asked me what I thought of you."

"What did you tell them?"

"I waxed eloquent about a man beset by too many tragedies at home, who took himself on a voyage to mourn, then returned and found that his wife was beset by troubles of her own. A veritable Odysseus and Penelope."

"What are they saying about the boy?"

"Ah… I needn't wax eloquent on that topic. Every last one gushed and cooed about how young Gerald Butler is the image of his father. Oh, and Scarlett, my dear," he said as she walked into the room, "you're sure to be inundated by invitations for the lad to play and visit. We know you must have so much idle time on your hands."

A look of dismay washed over her face. "I hope none are for this week. I'm due in Marietta tomorrow to look over some new designs, and Wednesday I need to ride out to the gin to discuss our plans for the coming harvest."

The bell rang, and Wade and Ella were coming down the stairs as the adults passed into the dining room. Breakfast was an enjoyable meal. Father Halloran spoke with Wade in simple Latin expressions, which Wade haltingly responded to. Rhett made a note to do something similar. He saw the look in Scarlett's eyes, hungry, proud, envious as she followed her son's progress, and wondered what she was thinking. She turned frequently to respond to Ella's chattering, smiling gently as she did. It was then he realized that she was not his Scarlett.

She disappeared after breakfast. He looked in the study and didn't find her. The chair was lower again, and the household record books were on the desk. He opened the one for the house. She was far under-spending her means. The allowance that he'd set up to give her from the bank was much greater than what he saw was being used.

He found a book that he thought might be a record of that bank account and looked at it. Everything he was giving her, save the cost of redoing the two rooms she'd furnished, was being sent to a separate account for Gerald Kennesaw Butler. He set that book aside and found the one for Kennedy's store. As Scarlett had told him before, the receivables far outweighed the cash. When money was not so tight, there would be quite a bit of profit, but for now she was making enough to maintain stock and pay for her staff. What little money came in was put in an account for Ella Lorena Kennedy. It was a similar story about the warehouses built on Charles Hamilton's land. The tenants were able to pay just enough to cover Scarlett's expenses and what little was left was in an account for Wade Hampton Hamilton. That left one book, the one for Scarlett's cotton endeavors. He opened that book and found how much cotton was coming into the gin and how much Scarlett was getting to process it. Several farms besides Tara were using the gin, and if they all increased output at the rate Tara was doing, she would have quite a business there. Most of the money above expenses was going to Tara, the rest toward Melanie Wilkes' favorite charities. The fabric mill was buying all of Tara's cotton and doing as well for itself as could be. There was some production of finer fabrics, which were going to stores around the country, but most of the capacity went toward sturdier stock, which was selling well. The profits from this matched the household budget. Henry had whispered something to him last night about her needing to accept more help. Rhett would have to look into it.

He looked up to see Father Halloran standing at the door. "The lad is coming along."

"It seemed a little early to start on his preparation."

"Some of his education is lacking in places, and we've started Latin and Greek at the very beginning to make sure we catch it all. He'll be the better for taking a full three years at it. Miss Ella seems to enjoy it."

"How so?"

"She brings her dolls and sits outside the schoolroom where we do lessons. She quietly repeats the declensions with us, singing them with the dolls. Truth be told, the doll she calls Elizabeth knows the fourth declension better than Wade."

"Scarlett never thought she was very bright."

"Maybe she just needed to find her own niche. She's picking up the Latin very quickly."

Rhett thought about Scarlett's children for a moment, and how they managed to shine once they were a little less neglected. "How do you find Wade?"

"In regards to what?"

"He seems to be angry at me."

"Your situation is irregular, of course. Even if they're not treating him poorly for it, he still has to hear the comments. He knows the truth."

Rhett wasn't sure _he_ knew the truth.

"Do you know where my wife is?"

"It's Monday; I think you'll see her out the back window."

Rhett pulled aside the sheer curtain filtering the light coming in the French door and looked. Clothes lines were strung across a part of the lawn and Scarlett was putting sheets on the line with the assistance of Prissy. They were at the end of one basket, and more laundry was brought out by Dilcey and Lou as he watched.

"She doesn't need to do that."

"If she does some of the work herself, the servants will get more time to themselves with their families."

"She's suddenly worried about that?"

"She thinks a little differently about some things since Mammy."

Rhett looked up. "Since Mammy what?"

Father Halloran looked sad, "Oh, I'm afraid it falls to me to tell you."

Rhett's heart sank. "What happened?"

"Scarlett asked me to bring her mammy the last rites a few weeks after Christmas. She was as Catholic as her dear mistresses were, and she wanted to go with the comforts of her church. She never did say how old she was, but I was told by the others that she was older than any of them."

"She said that Bonnie was the third generation of Robillard girls she'd cared for. The first would have had to be Scarlett's mother at least fifty years ago. Was she in pain?"

"It was several days, and she seemed peaceful through it. She and I had several conversations together during that time."

Rhett looked out the window again. It appeared that the laundry was all out on the lines by now. "I don't know how Scarlett stands it, after all that she's lost these years."

"Including you," said the priest.

Rhett shook his head. "That's not the same. She caused so much—"

"Let's not assign blame. I wouldn't let her confess your sins to me any more than I will allow you to confess hers. I'm certain there are a fair few on both sides."

"I suppose that's so." He looked out the window again and then sat down at the desk. "How has she stood it?"

Father Halloran sat in the chair he used the night before. "Mammy told me that the Good Lord has given her the strength to stand the things she's had to stand. All the same, she hoped Scarlett would have a friendly face to encourage her."

"And you've been that friendly face?"

"Mine is not the face she most wants, but I've dropped by from time to time to listen and encourage. She's uneducated and sometimes harsh, but she's clever and she wants so very much to be kind. So many opposites within her."

"She's vivacious. She's always grasped life and made it serve her, or used to. She's not the same."

"It's serving her differently now. She's convinced that everyone wants her to be her mother. She's trying to be Ellen O'Hara, up before the servants, harder working than anyone on the property, and the last to sleep."

"I never wanted that for her."

"She thinks it's the only way to get you to come home and stay home. She's trying to create the world she thinks you're looking for. Did you tell her you wanted to find the world you grew up in?"

"I found that world as well as all the things I wanted while I was abroad, but they never touched me. I couldn't become part of them."

"How could you? You didn't create it."

"I can't imagine creating such a place. I've never been one for building."

"Gentlemen, it's dinner time." Scarlett stood in the doorway, wearing a different dress. She looked ready to go out for the afternoon.

"Ah, Mrs. Butler, you're going to spoil me with two meals today."

She blushed prettily. "As long as you don't try to sweet talk me about your new bell tower, Father. Get your regular parishoners to fund that."

* * *

 _Thank you to all the lovely readers and reviewers, including **gabyhyatt, Truckee Gal, Melody-Rose-20, Guest 1 & 2, ****kanga85** , and **gumper.**_


	18. Chapter 18

_The characters here and the world they represent are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

After dinner, the Butlers saw their guest off and Rhett turned to Scarlett. "Where are you headed?"

She sighed wearily. "I have to go to the store and figure out what we can afford to order and still make the payroll."

"Is it that serious?" He knew from looking in her books that it was.

She shrugged. "I'll need to cut back yet some more on a couple of types of items in order to get the things people really need. If a couple of customers could just pay a little more of their arrears it would help, but it's been a bad month again."

He needed to get to the bank to assess his own situation. "May I take you down there?"

"Let me go up to spend a few minutes with Jerry. He's hardly seen me since last night."

He watched her stiffen her shoulders as she lifted her skirts to go up the main staircase. He admired her desire to beat her fear and knew that the Scarlett he'd once loved was still there. He caught up with her and walked beside her. "No more back stairs?"

"I use whichever I'm closer to. There's always so much to do, and there's no danger to the baby right now."

They reached the nursery, and Scarlett took little Jerry from his nurse. Rhett watched her and wished, with some irritation, that he could have seen her that way with Bonnie. Then he remembered he never let Scarlett have a moment with Bonnie that he didn't take over. She sat with him on her lap and played with some toys for a few minutes. Then they sat in a rocking chair—the same rocking chair he'd bought her in Charleston, he realized—and she read a story to the baby, who slapped his hands on the pages and occasionally said a word after his mother did.

"Mama," he said.

Scarlett laughingly said, "Yes, Darling, I'm Mama. Can you say Papa?"

"Papa."

Scarlett pointed at Rhett. "There's Papa!"

Gerald looked up and said "Pa pa pa pa pa pa pa…"

Rhett cleared his throat and said, "Here I am." He reached down for the child, and Scarlett let go. She busied herself putting away the book and toys while Rhett looked at the baby's dark eyes and determined chin. "How does he look exactly like both of us but so unlike his sister?"

"I have no idea. He's his own dear self." She leaned over and kissed the baby's cheek loudly. The baby giggled and crowed.

They gave the baby back to his nurse and went back toward the stairs. "How are you exactly as I remember but so unlike yourself?"

She was pausing at the top of the stairs and taking a breath to go down when he asked. After a few steps she answered. "I don't know. I've been trying so hard to do everything right, Rhett, to be what you want from a wife, but I know I still fall short."

"I'm not looking for a wife. I'm not a marrying man. You may recall that I just wanted you for a mistress." Why would he bring that up now?

"And yet you're married. You keep telling me I'm no lady." She stopped and turned to look at him. "Is that why you're so eager for a divorce? Surely you need a lady in the gracious world you want to live in."

He chose to ignore the question and address her other points. " _Damn_ ladies. You're doing all the things a great lady does. You used to do it without all the hypocrisy. Scarlett, you need more servants."

"I can't afford them."

" _I_ can, and if you won't use my money, I will hire them and pay their wages without it going through your hands."

She looked up at him and missed a step. For an instant her eyes were filled with the same fear he'd seen on her face just a couple of years ago. He reached out and swept his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. She swallowed hard.

"I have you this time."

"Thank you."

"Miss Scarlett, the horses are ready." Pork was standing in the hall.

"Of course. I'm sorry to keep you waiting." Back on her own feet, Scarlett swept down the stairs in the way she'd done when the house was first built.

Rhett spent a couple of hours looking over his financial situation. Certain investments had done well, others had held their own, and a few others were not as good as he'd hoped, but still likely to pull through eventually. Only one was a complete disappointment. He gave the order to see if there was any sort of buyer and what to do with any funds that were realized.

He walked back to the store and walked through it, admiring the way she managed to make the most plebeian of items appear upscale. People could make their poor purchases and not feel insulted by them. Perhaps valuing glister over gold had its benefits.

Scarlett appeared by his side. "I'm ready to go."

"Are your orders prepared?"

She sighed. "There's only so much I can do. The warehouses beg me to take more, and of course I can't. Please tell me this depression is almost over. The people of Atlanta can't take much more."

"I don't think it will get much worse, but I fear it will be a few years yet before it's truly better." She sagged a little, and he felt the need to make her feel better. "The great Scarlett O'Hara will triumph. Of this I am certain."

"Oh, Rhett. I don't want to triumph any more. I want everyone I know to stop having to suffer, even the fussy old busybodies who talk so much."

He handed her his handkerchief. "I seem to always make you cry, lately."

She waved his handkerchief away. "It's always a surprise when you think I do something good."

"Have I really been so hard on you?"

"Haven't you?"

He looked at her and considered all of the times he'd mocked and teased her. Perhaps she'd thought he was being harsh every time. She wasn't very good with subtleties, after all. "Maybe I have. Sometimes I was trying to cover how impressed I was."

He sat her in the carriage and they were on their way back home. "We did nothing to prevent a child last night," he observed.

"It could happen," she said, "but I wouldn't mind. You said I could have one or twenty of them."

"Do you really want twenty?"

"No, but another one wouldn't trouble me." Her smile was close to her coquettish simper and yet richer. Given the topic of conversation he realized she was smiling as a wife smiled to her husband about a joke that belonged to just the two of them. And suddenly his wife was mysterious, not in the dark way of the courtesans of Paris, but as though there were some secret to life that she could help him uncover.

He shifted in his seat and turned back to the horses. "You'll have to give up some of your daily tasks, Scarlett. I'm determined that you will get more help for things like the laundry and whatever else you did when you got up so early this morning. And if you have another child, you must get someone to take over all but the most superficial of oversight at the gin, which I foresee will be several by the time you're done."

"You're going to leave again, and then what will I have to do with all this time you're trying to save for me?"

"You have two older children, an infant, and we're discussing another baby. That's a lot of your time. You aren't directly managing all of the things Melanie used to do around town, but you're making sure they get done and adding money where needed. You've taken on many of your servants' tasks in order to give them shorter work days—Scarlett, there has to be an easier way."

Her lip trembled, and she looked outside the carriage. "I'm not sure why you care."

He reached out and tipped her chin back around. "I'm probably not going to go so far, and never so long again."

"You'll be back in Atlanta more often?"

"I found all the things I told you I needed to find. I found grace, and I found peace and dignity and respectability, and all the things I told you I wanted. They weren't for me. I couldn't touch them and they didn't touch me. I'll have to find another way."

"I don't understand. I thought you'd find a place where you could have all of those things and that you would stay there forever."

He sighed. "I found all of those things, but I couldn't have them, because they weren't mine. Father Halloran seems to think I need to make them for myself in my own home."

"But you can't stand to be around me." She sounded defeated. She looked at her hands and then looked up at him, her lip trembling. "You'll need to divorce me after all, then, won't you? You told me you don't want to try to mend what was between us, that you hate things that are broken and fixed. You'll keep this up until you decide you can't stand it. You'll find the woman you want, and then it will be all over for me."

"That's not it," he said, not quite following her.

She pulled her parasol over her face. "I've tried to become what you admire. I know you used to wish I was more like Melly. I've even tried to be kinder to that Watling woman because she was and because I think even my mother would have been. I've borne with the looks and comments from everyone because I knew they were true. They were wrong about Gerald not being your son, but they were right that you didn't want him. I've tried everything I can think of and it will never be enough."

He could feel her shoulders shake. "Scarlett, please, we're in the middle of town."

"I'm sorry, I'll try…" her shoulders shook harder. "It's all such hard work and it's all so useless. It's going to be snatched away no matter what I do."

"Scarlett." He tipped the parasol far enough to look at her. "I have no intention of divorcing you and finding another wife. You're the only wife I've ever wanted and I have no desire to try such a thing again."

"For now."

"Forever. It took me thirty-three years to find a Scarlett O'Hara and another six years to make her my wife. I don't have that kind of time to spend on another woman."

He offered her his handkerchief, but she had her own in her free hand and wiped her eyes herself. He thought about that a moment. She must need her handkerchief often enough that she remembered to carry one regularly now. "I can see that you must miss me enough to remember your handkerchief more regularly now," he said gently teasing.

"You ragged me unmercifully about it before. I need them so often now I usually have two or three in my reticule."

"If you will let me say what I need to say, perhaps you can understand me."

She nodded and sat back in the carriage.

"I can't always be with you," he said slowly, "but this is where I will always come when I need to be home."

"Do you mean that?"

"I do. You are my wife, and this monstrosity," he gestured up the drive, into which they had just turned, "is my home."

"So I'll never need to move to Texas?"

"Not on account of divorce."

He guided her up the stairs, concerned that she was over-tired, and put her in her room. He requested that her dinner be brought up to her, and then went down to eat with Wade and Ella.

"Are you going to leave after a week again?" asked Wade.

Ella looked over at him, horrified. "You can't leave! We need you!"

He patted her hand. "I'll be here for at least a week or two, maybe longer. I need to go to Charleston for a while after that, but I'll be back by Christmas."

They played games together and read after dinner. Rhett spoke some Latin and Greek to Wade, and he responded in kind. Then Rhett made a comment in Latin to Ella, who responded perfectly. He raised his eyebrows. Father Halloran was right. This would bear watching. There were some good colleges accepting female applicants now, and other colleges were opening with the purpose of having entirely female student bodies.

After a relaxing evening, the children went to bed and Rhett looked into the nursery to find Scarlett seated in the rocking chair. Gerald was lying on her chest, sound asleep, and Scarlett was dozing, herself. He lifted the baby to hold him for a minute or two before setting him in his crib. Scarlett woke up.

"I love you," she whispered. Then her eyes looked shocked and worried. Her hand flew up to her mouth. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—I don't know why—"

"I know why," he answered. "There's something about you—about this right here in this room—I love it, too."

He pulled her out of the chair and close to himself, indulging in the intimacy of the moment. This was real, this was good, and he could feel it. He understood about making a home with parts of himself in it. This… whatever it was… it belonged to him and he belonged to it. Scarlett was part of it too. There were pieces of both of them here, held together by something more precious than gold cement. He breathed her in and kissed her.

* * *

He rode the train to Marietta with her in the morning. They went all over the mill, speaking to the workers about their conditions, and then sat in the office looking at designs for a new run of fabric. Scarlett looked over the books, copied some numbers into the book she used at home, and they just had time to make the train back home.

"Who were the boys that were working there? They acted as though you were their best friend."

She shrugged. "It's nothing."

"Which is how I know there's a tale to hear. What have you done?"

"The first one was that boy Eddie. Wade found him on the way home from school. I don't know where he was to find a boy in such a condition, but he did and he brought him home, and I gave him to Dilcey and Prissy to give him a bath and decent clothes. Then we got him a hot meal and he told us his story. His parents weren't able to keep their home up in the mountains. They were turned out and they came to the city to find work. It was hard to find and then impossible. Everyone got sick, and now he's the only one. Simon said it helps to have youngsters to do some of the tasks around the looms, and so I could offer Eddie a job. The others came to me in the same way."

Rhett decided he should ask Wade what parts of town he'd been frequenting, but stayed with another point for now. "I've heard it can be dangerous and hard."

"I know some of the weavers will kick the boys who don't work fast enough, but I don't pay by the yard like some do, so they have no reason."

"And where does he stay?"

She smiled. "As always, Father Halloran knows someone. Or knows a priest in that district. Eddie is in a good home where he's fed and gets a roof over his head in exchange for a few pennies of his pay. All of the boys have at least as good a home as that. I've been checking on the homes before they move in. Some of the boys are luckier. One was adopted by the family that took him in."

"You would do that for boys you don't know?" His eyebrow went up and his voice was incredulous.

"I know," she sighed. "It would make my younger self mad. I used to get so angry with Melly for taking in every stray soldier who wandered past Tara, but she used to say that perhaps a woman somewhere else was helping Ashley. I know she would think of Beau if she saw those boys now. I hear her in the back of my head, and I think that if I were gone, I'd hope someone would be so kind to Wade or little Jerry."

And so Mr. Wilkes came into the conversation yet again, but in a way so trivial and meaningless that she might have said John or Harold or Stephen. The sting was out of it somehow. Rhett looked at his wife and saw that she was tired and strained. He put his arm around her and pulled her head to his shoulder, dropping a kiss on the side of her head and whispering that she might nap if she liked.

This night was similar to last night, but Mother joined the family in playing games and reading books. Little Jerry toddled around to visit each of his family members in turn, standing at his father's knee and staring for a long while before lifting his arms in a command to be picked up. On this night it was Rhett who held him until he dropped to sleep. Carrying his son up the stairs to the nursery, Rhett realized that it was hard to stay aloof from someone so connected with him, who trusted him so utterly.

Scarlett was in the bath when Rhett came into her room, having changed into nightshirt and robe in his own room. He leaned behind her head and whispered into her ear.

"Shall I join you?"

She brushed at her ear, "Your mustache tickles."

He leaned further down and kissed her neck. "I've been told that—in this bath tub if memory serves."

"I'm actually ready to get out. There might be someplace more comfortable for the two of us to be." Her eyes glowed like emeralds in the lamplight.

He closed his eyes as the feeling hit him. This was real; he and Scarlett had created it together, and he could enjoy it. She stood up, and he wrapped her towel around her. Then he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

 _A/N: The last chapter had the widest spectrum of reviews so far. Some of you liked things about it while some loathed it, and one or two seemed to see points on both sides. I appreciate all the points of view, so thank you for letting me know what you think. In response to the Guest who noted that not many one year old children will go to people they consider perfect strangers, that is definitely true of most kids, but there will be one or two in the bunch that, as the saying goes, never met a stranger. Among my seven there were two, fortunately years apart, who both terrified and inspired me by the way they would make friends with anyone who happened past. Young Gerald is such a child. I so appreciate the kind readers and reviewers, including **Romabeachgirl1981, gogomohamad229, gumper, samandfreddie, Truckee Gal, Guest 1 & 2, Kinderby, ****Melody-Rose-20,** and **gabyhyatt** _


	19. Chapter 19

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

When Scarlett would have gotten up the next morning, Rhett held her down with his arm.

"I need to get up. There are things that need to happen."

"You'll do no such thing," he replied. "I spoke with Dilcey, and she has a friend who will help her in the mornings. If she doesn't suit, we will find someone else. You are not to leave this bed for at least another hour."

"Rhett, there are things to do." He started kissing her shoulder, sliding the strap of her nightgown out of the way to do it. "Such as?" he asked.

"I—I—"

"I believe you meant to say that your most urgent task is to stay right here with me," he said quietly as he raised up on his elbow. He looked into her green eyes and thought aloud, "You still need kissing badly."

"I hope you still think you're the only one to do it," she whispered as her hands came up to caress his face.

* * *

They took the carriage out along the road toward Rough and Ready. Scarlett pointed out the turn for the cotton gin, and they were soon looking it over. "I can't believe you got it so clean, Mr. Jenkins!" she said. To Rhett she said, "While it's in use, there's lint everywhere for a long ways around. If I ever got lost, all I'd have to do is follow the trail of cotton lint."

"We need it clean to properly check it over, Mrs. Butler. We want to get a good start next month."

"We do need a good fast start. I've had two more inquiries this week."

"How many acres?"

"About forty altogether. No one has much yet, but they're all so anxious to grow something and see it pay."

He counted something on his fingers. "I'll have to check, but I think we have capacity for it. Any more and we'll be running very late into next year."

"And you've told me we don't want to do that. Have you found any more workers who won't be in the fields with the harvest?"

"One or two. I think we'll be able to get well started with the first cotton to come in, and we'll be able to staff up as the various farms finish for the year. The workers can come here as we get busier."

"I haven't been out in the county in ages. How is the cotton looking?"

"From what I see, it's going to be a good crop, Mrs. Butler. The per acre yields are looking middling to high with some of the prettiest cotton you've ever seen."

"You'll need to get another one, soon," said Rhett, waiting until they were leaving to speak for the first time.

"There are two I want to look at," she answered. "One is closer to Jonesboro, and the other is on the road to Marietta."

He saw a shady spot among magnolia trees nearby and took her hand to bring her over. "You must find someone to run them for you, who you can trust to bring you the books at home."

"Maybe I can do that eventually, but you know I have to take care of things first."

He put his hand over her stomach, and her eyes became large. "What if you are pregnant or become pregnant while I'm here?"

Her mouth opened, but she couldn't speak.

"Scarlett, I can't be aloof from your children. They're endearing. Wade and Ella are starting to thrive, and Jerry… God help me, I love him," this last was torn from him in a painful admission. He'd felt it happening in Charleston, but last night when the child had gone to sleep in his arms it had burst upon him. He loved his son as deeply as he had his daughter.

Scarlett looked as she always did when some carelessness of hers caused hurt to others. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to involve you so deeply. I just love you so much that I wanted—"

He kissed her then, hungry kisses all over her face, violent kisses that made her moan and hold tight to him. Just as suddenly, he stopped.

"I can't stay in Atlanta, constantly worried about him as I would be. I need you to be here, to give him the love you do."

"So you can avoid your worries completely? You're still a coward, Rhett, and I don't need help to run my business. I don't see that it's any affair of yours what I do with my time when you're off doing Lord knows what."

"It's none of your business what I do when I'm away—"

She looked at him, then and quietly said, " _Now_ who's the hypocrite? If you care so much, then don't leave. If you don't care enough to stay, then pray let me arrange my life as I see fit, just as you do yours."

He looked over her head, into the distance. "I just wanted to observe that if there's a second gin, you'll want some sort of business manager. Why don't I have one of the directors at the bank make inquiries?

"That might be a good idea," she said, "although I don't know what I'll buy another cotton gin with. I've tied up all my money tight."

"I might know an investor," said Rhett.

" _You_ would?"

"Same terms as before."

"You know there's no question," she said with a sigh.

* * *

The ride back to town seemed to take twice as long as the ride to the gin had. When they reached Atlanta, Rhett decided to go straight to the bank. They met with a manager whom he trusted and discussed what they needed. The manager drew up a list of qualifications they wanted and said he might know two or three individuals. At Scarlett's urging, the possibility of having Mr. Jenkins do it with someone to assist him would also be considered. Rhett then put forward, as a longer-term arrangement, the possibility of buying another gin. He set forth which investments of his own he would sell to finance a deal if one could be made, and insisted that, once purchased, the property would be in the name of Scarlett Butler.

"You didn't need to do that," said Scarlett when they turned the carriage toward Peachtree Street.

"I trust you with the cotton-related business ventures of Butler family, my dear. Just as you will trust me should we find our way into rice again."

She laughed a little bitterly. "What about the saloons and other houses of— _entertainment_ owned by one or another of us?"

"It may be time to downsize our holdings in such ventures," he said.

"Surely you won't turn Mrs. Watling out on the street?" she asked

"She's wealthy enough to buy me out. I've only kept my share because it gave me a bed to sleep in for the last several years."

"You don't need that anymore?"

"When I'm in Atlanta, my home is with you."

Her hand slid up under his arm and around his elbow at that.

* * *

Father Halloran was working with Wade that morning and joined the family for dinner. Afterward, Rhett invited him into his study. "Scarlett worked so hard for so long that I insisted that we play for a good long while once we were married," he observed. "We started fighting almost immediately. She's had me working with her since I arrived and I haven't enjoyed her company so much in years."

"Humans are strange creatures," shrugged the priest. "The things we work for are the things we value."

"There's money to be made by building things," Rhett admitted. "I've always preferred the faster, easier way of making money in the destruction of things. My easiest money came from a gamble I took against the Confederacy."

"And weren't the ladies of Atlanta so very thankful for their needles and hairpins, little realizing that it was at the cost of bullets and bandages and other items that might have helped their men?"

It was true, but it rankled.

"I joined the Confederate army at the end of the war."

"So I've heard."

"I stayed in Atlanta because Scarlett stayed. She hated Melanie Wilkes but stayed out of duty while Melanie's condition was too fragile to move, and left as soon as they could. I got her far enough down the road that I was sure she'd be safe and then left for the army."

"She's still a wee bit angry at you for that."

"I'm still angry about it, myself."

"And she's more than a wee bit angry at her Maker for it, for the futility of finally letting her go home only to be motherless when she got there."

Rhett couldn't disagree. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "I've valued the method of making money while the world goes down in flames because it's easier money. Are you telling me that the other values that come with building things might compensate for the smaller return?"

"You've had experience with both."

Rhett took a long pull on his whisky.

Father Halloran waved a hand. "Tell me this. You appreciated the worlds of dignity and respect that you passed through, but you couldn't be part of them. You knew it wouldn't work for you. Why not?"

Rhett thought slowly. "They weren't mine."

"How could such a world be yours?"

"You're saying I have to build it myself."

"When you build something, you give it the strength of your arm, your own native wit, and likely some of your heart. Those parts of you will always be in it."

Rhett stood and looked out the window. When he pulled back the sheer curtain, the filtered light in the room suddenly became bright. "In the early days of our marriage, I encouraged her to trample on everything good about the code we were raised in. I thought I would like it better if she was more like me. I didn't realize what it was about her that I loved. Before we married, she did what she found necessary to keep her family fed and safe. If someone spoke against it, she told them off. With me, she simply told everyone off regardless of what was happening."

There was nothing in the back yard but green lawn. Even the clothes lines of Monday had been coiled and put away somewhere, leaving the bare poles.

He turned back into the room, letting the curtain fall. The light was filtered again. "I know I wasn't supposed to tell her wrong-doing. I didn't mean it against her."

"No, you said rightly in this case."

"I've told her I still can't stay long, but it will probably be longer, and the times between shorter."

"You're a man of means with many properties to look after."

"It's more than that." He sat down again. "There's a calculus of how much I can stand to be around her compared to the things about her I can't do without."

"Math was never my strong suit," chuckled the priest. "I cannot help you with that."

"We argued today. I've been trying to improve her life here, and she's angry with me about it."

"Are you suggesting actual improvements?"

"She would be better off if she took my advice."

"Better off by whose definition?"

"By any definition."

"If that were true, she would have agreed with you."

Rhett narrowed his eyes. "Whose side are you on?"

The priest smiled enigmatically and said, "Both of yours."

"It doesn't sound like it."

"Many things in life are mysterious, such as why hard work and suffering for some things make us treasure them all the more."

The silence in the room wasn't entirely comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either.

"Papa!" shouted a little voice at the doorway. Both men turned and looked. Wade was holding his little brother.

"He won't stop saying 'Papa,' and Mother is trying to work through some math problems with Ella," said the boy.

The priest stood and tickled Gerald under the chin. He gave a devilish look to Rhett. "It would seem that there is _someone_ you can go to for help with numbers," he said. "I'll take my leave of you here and see myself out, then. Wade, work on those fourth declension endings and we'll pick it back up on Monday along with a little more Caesar."

"Yes, Father," said Wade. "Thank you, sir."

"Pa pa pa pa pa pa pa…" said Jerry.

Rhett came around the desk to take his son. "What are we to do with you?"

Gerald answered by trying to grasp Rhett's mustache. Rhett asked himself whether he could stand for this sort of treatment from yet another family member. He decided that he could. He could grow accustomed to this very quickly. Did he really need to go to Charleston? He did need to go work with Rosemary on the plans for Butler's Point, but how long did he need to be gone?

"Wade, how long did your mother say they would be working at the math?"

"She said that if she could get come peace and quiet for fifteen minutes it would be enough to get it into Ella's head."

"Well, then, why don't we get ourselves and Jerry ready for a trip to town. I fancy a visit to the ice cream shop."

The boy smiled and agreed. He was still too annoyed with Rhett to be more exuberant than that. They went around to the front staircase, which was further from the school room than the back stairs. Wade went to his own room, while Rhett took the baby to Scarlett's room.

For the first time, he realized that she'd brought the picture of Cupid and Psyche with her and hung it in this room. It was situated such that she couldn't miss it from her side of the bed in the morning. She would never accidentally bring it here or place it in that spot. He decided that she must like the painting.

"I got Wade to tell me about the tasks," Scarlett said from the doorway. "I don't know if I've properly done any of them."

"From what I've seen of your books and at the gin, you have the Golden Fleece well covered. Your charitable work would seem to be similar to the sorting of seed, too." He walked across the room to her and put an arm around her. "Don't despair on the other tasks. It would sadden me if you decided to destroy yourself, as Psyche almost did."

"You've said often enough that I'm too careful of my own skin for that."

"For which I'm grateful." He turned closer to her and rubbed his face in her hair.

"I hear someone suggested ice cream."

"I thought the children deserve a treat."

"Only the children?"

"And their mother," he said with a smile.

"Let me get my hat."

They walked the few blocks to a shop that served ice cream and enjoyed the cool treat while various people walked past and stared at them.

"We're somewhat obvious," noted Scarlett.

"That might have been part of my plan," answered Rhett.

"They just stare so—"

"Look at me." He begged her to trust him with his eyes. She nodded with a timid smile.

"I had an ulterior motive for coming here." His voice was now teasing.

Scarlett lifted an eyebrow. "Indeed? Do tell, Captain Butler."

"What would you say to having ice cream at the next dinner for the old guard?"

"Can we?" asked Wade, looking from one adult to the other. Ella simply beamed at the thought while Gerald pounded on Rhett's head.

Scarlett found her mouth was open, but she nodded. "It would be a terrible expense… we'd have to bring in so much ice, but as a one-time thing…"

Rhett nodded his head. "Exactly.

As they were walking home and Wade ran ahead to talk to some friends, Scarlett turned and said, "Did you just commit to staying the rest of a month with us?"

He looked down at her, with her hat tipped delightfully just so, and smiled. "I did indeed."

For just a moment Scarlett's hand joined his on the handle of the baby carriage before slipping back off.

Thank you so much to the readers and reviewers, including **samandfreddie, gabyhyatt, Truckee Gal, Guest 1 & 2, Romabeachgirl1981, Kinderby, gumper, ****Melody-Rose-20** , and **abbygale94**! I know I keep saying you're all most kind, but it's true. It's such a pleasure to see so many different points of view about the book itself and the characters.


	20. Chapter 20

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

A full-blown argument happened a full week and a half after Rhett's arrival home, in the manager's office in the bank. A man was found, a very good man, according to his credentials, but Scarlett didn't want to hire him because he was from Maryland. "Absolutely not," she said.

"Scarlett," he said through his teeth, "look at his skills and experience. He left Annapolis during his third year because of the war, and he ran a gin in Alabama right after it. He's just what we want."

"His state fought with the Yankees. For all I know he burned my cotton," she hissed back. "Why was he in Alabama and why is he in Atlanta now?"

"He's been—"

"I don't like the looks of him."

The manager cleared his throat. "Perhaps if you meet with the gentleman…"

"We can at least do that, Scarlett."

"Very well, let's have him for dinner, but I expect you to have your pistols cleaned and ready, Captain Butler."

Dinner was a disaster. Scarlett insisted that the children eat upstairs and not come down while Mr. Irving was in the house. Rhett had wanted to have a more family-like gathering, but Scarlett was too busy sharpening the tools of her interview skills to pay attention.

"Why did you leave Annapolis, Mr. Irving?"

"I was needed at home to take care of my family. My brothers were sent, and then Pa. Ma needed me at home."

"And how did you get to Alabama?"

Rhett had to admit that it was a shifty look that came into his eyes. "Pa came home and took care of the farm. They wouldn't let me back at Annapolis unless I signed their oath, so I looked for a job anywhere I could get one. I found out about a gin needing workers and went down there. I was working with the engineers at school, and it was good to be able to work with machines again."

"What brought you to Atlanta?"

"That gin had to shut down, and they say Atlanta is an up and coming town, so here I am." Dinner was about over, so Rhett and Scarlett led their guest to the parlor. Rhett was smiling. "I must say you come very qualified." A wail was heard from upstairs. Rhett turned to Scarlett. "Let me," he said. "I'll be right back."

Gerald was proving difficult to quiet. He jumped up and down in his crib when he saw Rhett. "What seems to be the trouble?" said Rhett.

"Pa!" shouted Gerald. "Papa! Pa pa pa pa pa!"

Rhett picked him up and walked back and forth in the nursery for several minutes until he felt the little body start to go heavy. He kissed the curly head and then set the baby into the crib. "Pa," said the child with one last whine.

"Good night, son," Rhett answered. He hoped that Gerald wouldn't be so much trouble when he left for Charleston.

He was most of the way down the stairs when he heard Scarlett hiss "No!" from the parlor.

"You will," said a menacing voice.

Rhett quickened his pace and arrived at the door of the parlor to see that Mr. Irving had Scarlett's wrist in his beefy hand and was pulling on the front of her dress with the other. Suddenly, bugle beads flew everywhere. Rhett crossed the room in three strides and punched the man square in the face, dropping him onto Scarlett's favorite divan, which cracked and broke down the middle.

"That was my favorite dress. What the hell happened?" he demanded.

Scarlett was wheezing several feet away. Rhett pulled her close until she stopped shivering. "It's all right," he whispered.

"He kept sitting too close to me. I tried to move and he kept following. I was just asking whether he fought in the war. He got this look in his eye and grabbed me. Rhett, he looked like every Yankee that tried to burn us out of Tara."

"You're safe now. I won't let him hurt you." Rhett left her for a moment to summon a servant. "Call Pork and have him stay here with Mr. Irving while someone else goes for the sheriff. I'll be back downstairs directly."

He led Scarlett to the stairs, and when she seemed unable to climb them, he swept her up into his arms and carried her. She was shivering when he set her on her bed, so he grabbed the blanket from the bed and pulled it around her. "Scarlett, are you all right? I need to meet with the sheriff."

She nodded her head so he went back downstairs to wait with Pork until the sheriff arrived. They didn't wait long, and Rhett described what he saw as a deputy took Mr. Irving away.

"I wonder if I might speak to Mrs. Butler," said the sheriff.

"She's quite indisposed," said Rhett.

"We really need her account of what happened."

"Have you no sense of decency?"

"I'm here, Rhett," she said softly. "Does the sheriff have questions?"

"Mrs. Butler, if you wouldn't mind?"

Rhett looked at his wife. She was wearing a different dress. The torn one was in her hands. He would have led her and the sheriff into the dining room, but she went straight into the parlor. She stared, aghast, at her divan, and turned to sit on a settee near the piano. She waved toward a chair nearby for the sheriff and indicated by the tilt of her head that she wished Rhett to sit next to her.

"Exactly what happened, Mrs. Butler?"

"We were interviewing Mr. Irving to possibly run my cotton gin. My husband went upstairs to deal with an issue in the nursery, and in his absence, Mr. Irving became overly familiar with me. He sat too close to me, and when I moved away, he grabbed my arm, here." Scarlett slid the sleeve of her dress up to show bruises around her wrist. "And then he pulled at the front of my dress and ripped it." She held up her dress. The rip was obvious.

"Do you mind if I take the dress?"

She handed it to the sheriff. "It's of no use to me anymore."

There were a few questions, but they were quickly resolved. The sheriff said his goodbyes, and a moment later Rhett and Scarlett were alone.

"You didn't have to come back downstairs. I would have found a way to give him the information he needed."

"I would have had to go down to his office tomorrow."

Scarlett surveyed the damage to her parlor including the beads all over the floor and the broken divan. "You always hated that seat."

Rhett came behind her and put his arms around her. "And you loved it."

"It's no good, now."

"I will take you to buy a new one tomorrow. Buy the ghastliest one there, if you want, I won't complain."

She turned in his arms. "You're being too good to me. Could it be because you were wrong about Mr. Irving?"

He threw his head back and laughed. "Guilty as charged, my pet. It looks like we'll have to look a little longer for the right man."

Rhett left Scarlett in her bedroom and went to his own that night, sure that she would sleep better without him to distract her. Within hours, he was proven wrong.

"Rhett! Rhett!" Screams quickly brought him across the hall.

"Scarlett?" He pulled her close and rubbed her back.

"Rhett," she said. "That Yankee kept coming toward me, and coming and coming, and I shot him with Charles' pistol, and the blood went down the stairs…"

She was hiccuping now, and he held her still closer. "You're safe."

He helped her into the bed, but she reached for him. "Don't leave me."

"Are you sure? I thought you'd be more comfortable alone."

"Don't leave me." He sat on the bed and unfastened his robe. He took it off and tossed it at the foot of the bed.

Scarlett came up behind him and clung to him. "Don't ever leave me, please Rhett."

"I'm here, Scarlett. I'm right here." He pulled her close, and they went back to sleep.

* * *

The first Sunday of September arrived. Scarlett was more and more subdued as it approached, as the children got more and more excited. "You should take after them more," said Rhett. "They're quite happily anticipating the ice cream."

"They don't realize that you're leaving Monday," she said quietly.

"You know I have to go."

"Things have been so pleasant between us."

"Have they?"

"Haven't they?"

They were sitting on the new settee that had replaced the broken divan. Scarlett was tired from planning the party for Sunday and worried about what would happen after it.

"I thought I pleased you more than I had been," she said. "I thought you'd want to stay longer."

He took her hand and kissed it, then pressing it to his heart. "My dear, you know I will never completely leave you. I'll carry you with me wherever I go."

She flew up into a standing position. "You're making a joke out of it," she said wearily. "You don't know what it's like."

"I do know what few promises we've made since we came to our new understanding," he said, standing up too. "I can imagine nothing better than what happens in our bedroom at night, Scarlett."

"Then—" He held up his hand.

"But I can imagine nothing worse than what sometimes happens between us in the daylight. Let us have some dignity and discuss these matters calmly. I need to spend some time with my sister and work on the plantation near Charleston. You have your business here. We've started to fight about several issues lately. It will do everyone and everything good if I leave. I can promise you this, though: We will be together this year for Christmas. Is that acceptable to you?"

The hurt in her eyes was palpable, but she nodded her head. "Perfectly clear, Captain Butler."

The Sunday was hot and steamy, as normal for this time of year. Scarlett worried about the ice cream melting before anyone could eat it, but a cooler breeze passed through late in the afternoon, making the air feel less sticky. Rhett carried Gerald and walked through the grounds with Scarlett on his other arm, overhearing various conversations and nodding to his guests.

"Hello, Mrs. Elsing, how are you these days?"

That lady responded with "It's a charming party, Captain Butler." They walked on but heard her comment to her cousin visiting from Augusta, "Oh yes, not quite _comme il faut_ to be so ostentatious, but one always gets a good meal."

"Hello Mrs. Merryweather, and Mrs. Picard. So nice of the weather to cool slightly."

"Indeed, Captain Butler," answered Maybelle Picard, who then asked her mother, "Is Scarlett wearing yet another new dress?"

"I told you," said Rhett to Scarlett.

"You also told me it looks divine on my shoulders," she replied archly.

"That I did." He stopped and looked at her. "Thank you for giving me a mental picture that will be hard to forget."

"One does what she can," she answered with asperity.

"Please try not to be so cross, my dear."

"You've spent two years having this attack or whatever it is," she responded, "and in the meanwhile someone else is left to deal with what you leave behind."

"Are you saying it's not fair?"

"Can you pretend it is?"

"Lovely day Scarlett," said Henry Hamilton, coming close for a kiss. "Inspired idea to have ice cream."

Scarlett kissed her uncle by marriage and demurely commented. "It was all Rhett's doing. He suggested it and the children helped him plan everything. I'll never match it for next month."

Henry squeezed Scarlett's free hand. "You know you don't need to." He came closer to whisper, "And perhaps it's better not to."

Scarlett sighed as they reached the end of one section of guests. "It always makes me look bad when you leave. Today they consider you ostentatious, but next month they'll complain that you were generous and now I'm stingy."

"Come now. At least you know where you stand with them. They can never decide whether to hate me or adore me."

"If they knew you like I do, they'd always think you're a varmint or at best a cad."

"Can't you decide?"

"I think a varmint is more likely to leave his wife when she might be…" Scarlett turned red and pulled her arm out of his, stepping over to hide behind a tree.

He had to follow her. "Scarlett, _are_ you pregnant?"

She looked up, green eyes clear and true. "I can't possibly be sure yet, but it looks like… There hasn't been any… well, _interruption_ since you've been here."

He couldn't decide what to think. Since they had Gerald, would another one be any better or worse?

"This wasn't how I wanted to tell you. It wasn't when I wanted to tell you."

"Were you going to write it to me?"

"I'm not sure."

"I would have definitely found out when I returned for Christmas."

"Please don't say anything to your family."

"Of course not."

"I mean it, Rhett. I've never told you so soon."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"I want a girl this time."

"Please stop."

"I don't care what color her eyes are as long as they're green, and can you get me a child as sweet and easygoing as Ella or your sister Careen?"

"Do I look like a sales circular? You can't just order what you want, you know."

What was he saying? "Come sit down and have some ice cream."

"I will sit down, but the ice cream—no." Her face turned green.

The party couldn't end soon enough, but then the sad task of saying goodnight for several months must be got through.

Wade looked at Rhett accusingly the whole evening while the family were together one last time. When they said their last goodbyes, Rhett said, "Write to me at my mother's house on the Battery in Charleston. If your mother is at all unwell or there's any sort of crisis, I want to know. Send me a telegram if you think it's the slightest bit serious."

Wade agreed. "I still don't think you should leave. I don't like the way it hurts Mother," he answered.

"I have business to attend…"

"Yes, Mother explained it all to me."

"Then please, for her sake, if she gets sick or has any sort of crisis, let me know."

Wade grudgingly agreed, for his mother's sake, and shook hands.

Ella gave Rhett many hugs, and told him she hoped he would come home soon. "I'll see you when Santa Claus does," he said.

"Will I see you?" she asked.

"Yes, we'll all have Christmas together."

Gerald sat on Rhett's lap all evening. "You would think the child never met _me_ ," said his mother. When the evening was over, Rhett kissed the chubby cheeks tenderly and put him in his crib. "You did a terrible thing to me, having that baby," he told Scarlett. "I can feel within me that I _must_ leave, but I wish I didn't have to leave him."

The stricken look on her face told him he'd left a mark with that one. She slipped away and once outside the door he though he heard her running down the hall.

She was sitting at her window, watching the lights in the city when he came to the bedroom. "I'm not going to apologize for needing to leave."

"I don't think there's any reason for me to apologize because I'm miserable over it."

"Scarlett, can't we just—"

"Oh, shut up and unfasten me. I know you've been wishing for privacy with this dress since I put it on."

He walked up behind her and traced the pearls around her throat, a single strand that drew the eye and wakened the imagination. He unfastened the clasp and let one end disappear down the front of her dress. Then he traced the line of pearls with his lips, unfastening the dress as he got to the edge of the neckline so that he could follow it down. She sighed breathlessly as he reached a sensitive spot.

He picked her up and carried her to the bed, sitting down with her on his lap. He finished unfastening her back and pulled her dress up over her head, tossing it at the vanity. Its layers of organza caught the air like a kite, causing it to float to the floor far shy of its goal. Next was the corset. Rhett loosened it and pushed Scarlett's hands away when she would have unfastened the busk herself. He undid the hooks and pulled the corset away from her.

He couldn't help drawing in his breath at the sight of her in her chemise, which stuck to her skin due to perspiration from the warm day. Were there changes to her? A little thickening here and there? A softening of certain usually sharp lines? He feared it was true and wanted it to be true and then he realized he was with her and however much different his days would be starting tomorrow, his nights would lack this.

His lips went everywhere. He wanted to devour her and he wanted to worship her. Soon he had her completely undressed. The pearls were on a bedside table and her clothes had floated everywhere. He looked into her eyes, those green eyes that trapped him every time he looked into them. Was she willing? It would kill him but he would stop if she wanted.

She tore at his shirt, pulling at it, causing shirt studs to go in many directions. "Easy, love," he whispered. "There's time yet."

"Not nearly enough," she said.

He groaned and helped her with his clothes. In many ways she was right.

 _A/N: Happy New Year! Thanks, as always to my lovely readers and reviewers, including **Guest 1 & 2, Melody-Rose-20, gumper, gabyhyatt, abbygale94, sj372419, Truckee Gal, rhett's love, Romabeachgirl1981, ****samandfreddie,** and **kanga85.** I apologize for getting a little punchy in some of the review responses. I'm kind of like a two year old with a big secret in regards to some things that will happen in just a few chapters. We'll get there, I promise._


	21. Chapter 21

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

 _Forward: I have a tendency to get ahead of myself or to post things that haven't been completely thought through. I want to thank you all for caring enough about this story to speak plainly, because I threw something in there that made absolutely no sense. I can't say that what I've done here necessarily fixes it. It's certainly nothing like what I probably should have done, but I hope this will provide an improvement and a little closure for a certain character who was never destined for long life in this world._

His mother was overjoyed to see him. "Your letters have been lovely, but it's not the same as having my own boy in my home," she said. "We haven't gone so long without seeing you since the war."

"Mother mine," he said. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Go freshen up and come down. We have various things that are cool and delicious to eat on such a hot day."

He did as told, placing the teacup on a bookshelf in his bedroom. It looked lonely without the saucer, just as Father Halloran had suggested. Yet he had only brought the one piece, perhaps to remind himself and Scarlett, if she noticed, that they would be reunited.

He went downstairs in an odd mood, glad to be in his mother's house, but not feeling quite as at home as in times past. He wasn't here to refresh his palate this time; this was a working trip. As always, it was just Rosalyn and Rhett for this one meal, as they shared the news of Atlanta.

"Scarlett writes that you wanted her to stop running her cotton gin but it nearly ended in disaster. Did it really?"

"We interviewed a man who, it turns out, was trying to find a way to get quick money. He made a play of trying to attack Scarlett, hoping that she would pay him to leave, but he ended up in jail instead."

"You make quite a romantic hero, protecting her."

"That was before she spent a week telling me that she told me so."

"Whatever happened to that awful man?"

Rhett closed his eyes, remembering the argument with Scarlett that lasted several days. "I won't be able to sleep at night, wondering if they're going to let him out of jail," she had pointed out. She wasn't wrong. He had quickly realized he cared enough about her that he couldn't leave until it was somehow resolved.

He cleared his throat and told his mother, "It turns out that he might be wanted for crimes in other states. I think he was extradited to Arizona first on a charge of stealing a railroad payroll. He certainly wasn't at all who he said he was." Rhett was very busy with his food. The salad made from garden greens was quite refreshing.

"How did they figure that out?"

"I happened to recall that it was a crime that hadn't been solved, and asked the sheriff if this man looked like him."

"And did he?"

"There was a very close resemblance to the wanted poster."

"How much did that poster look like you?"

Rhett laid his fork down silently and looked up at his mother. "Are you accusing me of armed robbery and murder?"

"I never knew what to think," she said quietly. "I never knew what you might have been driven to do. You were so young, although not as defenseless as Thomas would have been."

He shook his head. "Not that. Never that, mother. Except for the war, any man I have killed was directly trying to kill me first."

Rhett watched his mother blink back tears. "I'd always hoped that it was so. I've always wanted to think of you as a good boy, under it all."

He took his mother's hand and kissed it with a sigh. "Not a very good boy at all, Mother, but better than _that_. Much better than that, I hope."

A chill ran over Rosalyn. It really _wasn't_ as big a distinction good and evil as a mother would hope. She saw that Rhett knew it. "And so this man, when they get him to Arizona and realize it wasn't him? Or will he be executed whether he's the right man or not?"

"I'm hoping they discover who he really is by then. I've hired some men from Pinkerton's to investigate quietly. When they interviewed him at the jail, they realized this wasn't the first time he tried to commit terrible crimes. If he's not the man from the Arizona heist, there's sure to be something else."

"And what does Scarlett think about all of this?"

"She's not happy with me leaving so soon after something like that happened, but at least she has no fear where that man is concerned, and she's the least defenseless woman I know."

"That's no excuse, Rhett, to treat her so is ungentlemanly."

"She's long since unsexed herself, mother."

Rosalyn stood up at that and slammed her hand on the table. "To think I should live to hear my own son say such a thing, and about his own wife…"

"Mother, it's commonly known around Atlanta."

"About a woman living under the protection of your name, Rhett. Doesn't that mean anything to you? She's your _wife_."

"My wife who's chosen not to live as most of the hypocritical ladies in Atlanta live."

"You sound proud of that."

"I always was."

"That doesn't mean that she wouldn't welcome a little kindness and protection from her own husband of all people!"

"She doesn't want to be coddled!"

"Not at _all?_ Do you really believe that?"

"Shes—" _Trying hard to be what he wanted_. It echoed in his ears from what Father Halloran said. "I promised Rosemary I'd come back."

"It won't take very long to resolve your business with her."

Rhett rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to take the evening train tonight?"

Rosalyn calmly set dishes back on the serving tray. "You needn't leave immediately, dear, but I don't think you need to stay for very long. Are you happy with Scarlett?"

"We've had moments where I'm absolutely sure I'm crazy to ever leave her side."

"So why are you here?"

"There are also moments I want to wring her neck."

"That's called marriage, dear."

"It's also called suffocation."

"Just don't wreck it. There might come a time when instead of suffocation it feels like a comfortable blanket."

Rosemary breezed through the house at that point, carrying a satchel with papers trying to escape. "Brother-mine! Where have you been?"

"With his wife and family, where he should be."

"Isn't little Gerald such a darling? Scarlett wrote that he says 'Papa' until she wants to cry."

"I've seen it happen," said Rhett.

"It doesn't seem fair that Scarlett should do all of the mothering and fathering for a full year and you swoop in and suddenly you are all he wants."

"Perhaps he was making up for lost time." Rhett was getting a little irritated.

"The time _you_ lost, wandering around as though you didn't have a perfectly good family and home."

"I needed to see different things, Rosemary."

"Whatever you saw was nothing to what Scarlett went through."

"Scarlett and I had an agreement. I don't deny that it might have been a little short-sighted to leave as I did, but she and I both agreed that I would take that trip."

" _You_ agreed, brother dear. Scarlett was left to deal with the results of your poor decisions."

"Which brings me to another point." Rhett glared at his mother. "Whatever happened to put such ideas in Pauline and Eulalie's heads?"

Rosalyn shook her head. "We have no idea, Rhett, and once I knew what happened, I couldn't visit them any longer. I was just sick about it."

Rosemary shook her head. "I was with her when she went to visit them last, and they were as sweet as can be. They were terribly amused about something, and then the stories came out as soon as Scarlett was back in Atlanta."

Rosalyn patted Rhett's hand. "Was there permanent damage?"

"I think we've fixed it, but of course Scarlett is capable of making it worse."

Rosemary shook her head. "I don't think she is, any more."

Rhett looked at his sister and agreed with her. "You're right, I don't think she is, more's the pity."

"Is there a problem?" asked Rosalyn.

"She's so different now. It's not just the attack. She's lost some of that fire."

"Then why are you here?"

"I can't fix her life. I need to deal with my own."

Rosalyn frowned at him. "I think you'd find more of your own problems solved if you helped her more often with hers."

Thinking of all the things that he'd ever done with Scarlett, his mother might have been right. Some of his favorite times with her had been discussing her businesses and her little problems and what she planned to do with them. She had such interesting ways of looking at things that there was always a delightful surprise.

Rosemary waited until the meal had been cleared away before covering the dining table with papers and an updated map of Butler's Point. "It doesn't matter what we grow, they need it all. I propose that we go back to rice to start with, since we're set up for that on at least part of the property. These sections here," she put salt shakers on them, "still have functional irrigation systems and could be ready within a week or two."

Rhett looked at it with interest, and thought of Scarlett's excitement on his behalf. She wanted him to have the attachment to something in the same way she had Tara. He would never feel that way, but there was still something exciting about this. "Let's draw up a schedule."

Rosemary looked through her satchel and pulled out a piece of paper, setting it in front of her brother. "Here we are," she said.

He glanced through it. "We'll be harvesting at the same time as the cotton."

"Is that a problem?"

"I don't know yet."

"I made some improvements. Do you want to come see?"

* * *

Later in his bedroom, Rhett found a piece of paper and started a note to his wife. He stumbled over the salutation. He couldn't decide what to call her and crossed it out three times. The teacup caught his eye. He took a new piece of paper and wrote the date on the top, and then left some space to decide how to call her.

He started by assuring her that he had arrived in Charleston in good health and had found his family in good health as well. He hoped that everyone he left behind was likewise. He knew she would be interested in the rice plantation, and so he described all that he was planning to do based on Rosemary's recommendations and outlined a couple of things he hadn't decided yet. He wondered if she would respond with any opinions. He told her that he thought warmly of their last moments together. He thought of them now. _She had waked before he did and brought him breakfast in bed. She hadn't said a word in anger or annoyance; she'd just wished him safe travel and success in the business he would do in Charleston._ He finished off with "Cordially" and decided that under the circumstances he should start the letter with "My dear Scarlett." He paused before sealing it. Would she know yet about a baby? Should he mention it? She told him to never say anything until she knew for sure, so he said nothing.

* * *

Rhett and Rosemary took the little sail boat out in the early morning and walked along the pathways. The paths were the first thing he noticed. They'd been cleared and straightened almost to their previous standard. The fields were looking good, too. The rice that had been growing was gone now. "Was there anything worth having in the rice?" he asked.

"It had re-seeded itself a few times, as you know. We got some product out of it, but it wasn't a proper harvest by any standard."

They continued along to where the house had been. The burned remains were now gone, and the foundation had been cleared and repaired. Several of the outbuildings had been rebuilt. "We started with the buildings for storing our tools, seed, and other materials," she said.

He nodded his head. "You did all this with the money I sent you?"

She shrugged. "We've received two years' worth of income from that mine, and there were people willing to help in exchange for what rice was in that field."

"Was there much?"

She shrugged again. "It will be a substantial addition to their tables this winter. I was able to pay most of them in a combination of cash and rice, so I think they're better off than without the work."

"Will they come in the spring?"

"I believe they will."

"I have other funds I can direct here. Do you want to work on the house during the winter?"

"Do you mind? It wouldn't directly contribute to the property."

"Believe it or not, letters travel from Charleston to Atlanta as often as they go the other way around. Would the house be appreciated as a wedding present?"

She bumped into his shoulder. "Rhett… he hasn't proposed."

"Does he have any interest in farming rice? Francis, right?"

"Yes, Francis, and he's been all over the property with me. Some of the ideas here are actually his. He wants to oversee it."

Rhett peeked into an old root cellar. "I don't think overseeing will be the way it was. The old plantation system is gone."

"Whatever it's called, he'd like a chance to run it next year, from preparing to plant until setting the fields to rest for the winter. We've discussed everything at length and I believe he knows how every step of it's done. His father was an overseer out by Mount Pleasant."

"How did you meet?"

"Scarlett was right to start at the Veteran's Home. No one there could really help me, but they all knew someone who might know something and after about a month and a half of meeting with a network of friends of friends, I came across Francis and I knew instantly that he knew what we were talking about. He understood the language, you see. When I brought him out to our place, he jumped right in and did everything along with the workers."

"And how did the other part happen?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean. There hasn't been any other part."

"Mother says the two of you spent half the year mooning over each other in her parlor."

Rosemary sighed heavily. "It's all been unspoken. It's hardly enough to inspire a girl to check on the contents of her hope chest."

"When can I meet him?"

"Tomorrow, I think. He usually comes in the late morning."

"Does Francis have a last name?"

"Of course. It's Calhoun."

"Like Senator Calhoun?"

"I understand that they're kin but nothing to presume upon."

"Very well, I'll speak with him tomorrow."

Rhett wrote several notes to himself when they got back to the Battery. There were several things that could still be done to winterize the fields they wanted to plant next spring. There were several things to do if a new house was to be built. He looked through Rosemary's papers to see if she'd had an architect out at the place. He found drawings for the foundation but nothing else. He smiled to himself. She probably had the whole house drawn up but didn't want to show him yet. There was time.

He decided there was a joke on himself somewhere. Father Halloran had advised him without saying it in so many words to involve himself in building something, but it appeared that what he'd be building would be a home for someone else.

The next day he went back over his notes, wrote a few new ones, and looked over the other business he needed to work on in town. At eleven, Rosemary came to the door of the study and bounced up and down oddly.

"Calm down Rosemary. Is he here?"

She nodded her head several times, apparently unable to speak.

"Send him in."

Rhett liked Francis Calhoun instantly, both as someone to bring life to the plantation again and as a potential suitor for Rosemary. He was tall with sandy blond hair and blue eyes, which Rhett was sure helped his cause with any young lady of his acquaintance. He was also self-contained and sure of himself without being full of himself. Appearances could be deceiving, however. Rhett considered the case of Mr. Irving, who had tried to rape Scarlett.

They discussed rice planting generally and then more and more specifically. Rhett himself had done quite a few of the jobs involved, but as the son of the plantation was only allowed to play along and not at all after he turned sixteen and went to West Point. It became clear that Francis Calhoun could teach him quite a bit.

He pulled out his papers and listened as Francis spoke, adding notes here and there. Francis clearly understood nuances that Rhett did not. Finally, he stood up and reached a hand across the desk. "You have a job if you want it."

Francis stood and reached his own hand, shaking Rhett's seriously. "I'd be happy to work with you, Captain Butler."

"From what I've been hearing, there's more for us to discuss."

Francis blushed and mumbled, "I don't know if I dare."

Rhett stood and took two glasses from a shelf over the desk. "This conversation requires whisky." He opened a decanter. He poured two generous helpings and considered how to make Francis Calhoun, son of overseers, feel welcome. "Did Rosemary tell you about our family?"

"You're the Butlers of Charleston."

"Yes, but Rosemary's and my grandfather was—to put it bluntly—a pirate. He became respectable _after_ he made his money. One could say my privateering days were a throwback to him. You will also no doubt know that very few genteel houses in Charleston will invite me into their homes?" Francis nodded and Rhett continued, "And of course, there is my wife's family."

"She's related to the Robillard sisters, right?"

"Indeed. They are her mother's sisters. But her father was an Irish peasant who won his plantation, a farm really, in a hand of poker."

"I didn't realize."

"Not many recall the man as he was. I only met him once and found him to be a great gentleman, for all that he was completely outclassed by his wife and eldest daughter."

"I see."

"My wife's sister is married to a Georgia cracker who before the war might have aspired to be an overseer, but more likely would have lived on a few small acres he owned. He appears to be a man of no consequence until he suddenly knows exactly what to do to keep the farm going or what to say to keep Scarlett from killing her sister. Scarlett herself is quite the rising businesswoman in Atlanta, which when combined to her marriage to me has cost her many friends she might have had otherwise.

"Mister Calhoun, it's not the world it used to be. I'm not saying it's better or worse, but if you're in love with my sister, your status in the world that was as overseer makes no difference to any of us, as long as you take proper care of your family and make her as happy as the life you choose allows."

Francis nodded his head and thanked Rhett for his candor. Rhett sat back and damned himself for his hypocrisy. Who was he to warn of making wives happy when he himself had gone almost out of his way to make his wife miserable?

The only way to keep his wife happy would be to make himself miserable. How was a person to negotiate that? The teacup might have had the answer, but Rhett didn't know how to read it. The more he stared at it, the more he did realize he was almost done with his work in Charleston.

 _A/N: I hope I've redeemed my self, at least slightly. Thank you so very much to the readers and reviewers, including **Guest 1 & 2 & 3, Melody-Rose-20, Romabeachgirl1981, abbygale94, Kinderby, Leafhuntress, gumper, Truckee Gal, gabyhyatt, ****kanga85** , and **Florausten.**_


	22. Chapter 22

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rhett spent the next several days going over the finances and arranging lines of credit for Rosalyn and Francis. One day slipped into two and then four and a return note from Scarlett came in the post. She was delighted to receive his letter and for the opportunity to return a letter of her own. She wrote of her own doings and enclosed _curriculum vitae_ for a potential business manager. She was reluctant to offer suggestions about the plantation, but made a couple of observations based upon her experience of living on a farm. He read through them and found sound thinking.

He was a little disappointed that so much of the letter was impersonal until he discovered a Post Script. "It's only been a couple of weeks, but I miss you. It still looks as though we might have another long-term guest in our home next year. All my love, S." He couldn't figure out why he kissed that page of the letter. He quickly folded it up, embarrassed with himself. He looked at the clock. There was a train that would connect to Atlanta in just a couple of hours.

* * *

It was a warm September afternoon when Rhett let himself into the Peachtree Street house through the kitchen. "I didn't know we were expecting you Mr. Rhett. It's the sewing circle, today," said Dilcey, hardly looking up from the cobbler she was cutting into pieces and scooping into the dishes already laid out on serving trays.

"I'll see myself around," he answered. He walked into his study and placed the cup where it belonged, leaving his valise and jacket for the moment. He walked quietly through the house to where he could see his wife in the parlor. She was looking daggers at Dolly Merryweather and stabbing her needle into whatever her misshapen item was supposed to be. He chuckled quietly to himself, too quietly for anyone to hear. He quickly realized that Scarlett must be attuned to him because suddenly she was staring at him with his name on her breath and her heart in her eyes.

She quietly excused herself and stepped into the hallway. He pulled her back away from view and kissed her.

"Are you really here?" she whispered.

"I got your letter and decided I could get here before my answer could." He turned slightly so that he could reach down to her tummy. "Are we—are you? Do you know, yet?"

"I'll have to check with Doctor Meade soon," she said, a blush creeping over her face.

"Either way, I'm so glad to be home." He tugged her back behind the stairs and then into the study, where he locked the door. He continued kissing her, unfastening the front of her dress and tugging her skirts up.

"Rhett, what are you—I'm supposed to be out there! I don't have… oh… Rhett…"

"It will be just a few minutes, my dear, and then you can face those dragons knowing that we were just doing this while they were out there…" He sat on the sofa and pulled her down with him.

* * *

Half an hour after her husband slipped into the house, Mrs. Rhett Butler walked through the kitchen. She picked up and carried one of the serving trays into the dining room for the afternoon tea. She opened the big double doors that connected that room to the parlor and invited the ladies in for refreshments. If the ladies noticed that she was suddenly more flushed and her eyes sparkled more before excusing herself earlier, they were too polite to say anything. She turned to see her husband carrying another tray, making his usual transparently obsequious comments to the ladies. When he winked at her, she blushed and smiled enough to show her dimples to him. Rhett was glad to be home.

After helping to serve the refreshments, Rhett went upstairs to visit the nursery, where there was much excitement. Gerald ran up to him and immediately demanded Rhett pick him up. Ella came and gave him a kiss and a hug, and even Wade was willing to shake hands without the animosity of a week and a half before.

"You weren't gone very long," he observed.

"I had some business to take care of for my family's property, but then it seemed better to return here."

Wade nodded approvingly, and Rhett wondered if this was some payback from what he put his parents through during his own difficult teenage years. He decided not. He'd been much worse as a young man, and in this case Wade was closer to being right than he was.

The next morning saw Rhett take his usual spot at the table for breakfast, after which he drove his wife to the store and spent his own morning at the bank. Several people approached him there, asking for loans or wishing to set up other accounts. He walked them through the various processes and found some sort of odd satisfaction in doing the expected thing.

Late in the morning, the sheriff stopped by with one of Rhett's Pinkerton agents.

"It would appear that Mr. Irving really is part of that gang that held up the payroll," said the sheriff.

"You're kidding," answered Rhett.

The Pinkerton man cleared his throat. "It causes us a little bit of a difficulty, Captain Butler. Can you tell us what you were doing about that time?"

Rhett sighed. "In all honesty, I was making contacts with ammunition manufacturers and running guns to South America. The war was going to start and I knew I'd be wanted as a privateer as soon as it started."

The sheriff sighed. "And you've already been pardoned for anything you did that might be war-related. That would seem to tie that up."

It was a conversation worth coming back to Atlanta to have.

He explained it all to Scarlett over coffee after the evening meal. "I _was_ right, damn it!"

He sighed. "Yes, you were right."

"So?" She was looking at him, proud, triumphant, green eyes gleaming as he hadn't seen her since-since when? He sat back and thought a moment. The last time she looked like this was during her first party in this house, right before the governor had shown up and half the guests, including thee Wilkeses, left.

He stood up and walked around the table to kiss her. "Mrs. Butler, you are one attractive woman."

Her eyes flashed and her dimples showed. "Why Captain Butler, I do declare you turn my head, but I believe an apology is in order." She tilted her face just so, away from him but in a way that made sure her best features were still perfectly visible.

He pulled her up into his arms. He whispered it, into her neck. "I offer my most humble apologies, madam."

"Oh?" He could feel her breath hitch.

He pushed the thin material of her fischu away and nibbled at the neckline of her basque. "Yes, I'm very sorry that I didn't trust your judgement. I'm sorry that I left you alone with a man who turned out to be a hardened criminal. I'm sorry he destroyed your favorite sofa, and I'm sorry he ripped a dress that made you look like a goddess." He was deep into her decolletage at this point, and they were both breathing deeply.

"I... oh, yes... I accept your apology, Captain-oh, Rhett-but-"

"But?"

"We still have to put the children to bed."

"Ah."

He let go of her and stepped back. He shook his hair back into place and straightened his vest with a snap. There was a button that had come undone. He looked at her with a smirk, but she was looking down at her dress with dismay. "Er... perhaps I could..." He decided he would be no help whatsoever. "Maybe not." It was more fun to watch her recover herself and fix her dress, anyway.

* * *

During the next two weeks, a pattern developed. Rhett and Scarlett worked on their various investments, either together or separately, they had dinner with the children and sometimes Father Halloran or Harry or Pittypat Hamilton. They spent time with the children or Melly's various charities, and then had supper and a relaxing evening at home.

Wade found another homeless boy named Wallace. He was the son of former slaves whose parents were killed by influenza over the summer. As with all of the boys Wade found, Scarlett made sure he got a bath and clothes, followed by a good meal. She was working on finding him a job, but Simon at the cotton mill balked. It seemed that he feared his workers wouldn't want Wallace there.

"God's nightgown!" muttered Scarlett. "They're not slaves any more, and he'd be just as good at the job as anyone else."

Rhett kissed her forehead. "I'm sure we can find something else for him. He's a clever and willing young man."

A couple of days later Uncle Peter came to ask Scarlett about Wallace. It seemed that he had heard the story and wondered if Scarlett would allow him to work for Aunt Pitty. Uncle Peter thought a young man might be helpful to Aunt Pitty, who increasingly could use someone to run errands for her. Scarlett saw that what Uncle Peter was asking for was someone to train to take his place. She promised to make the offer to the boy and let him decide. As she told Rhett later, "I was reminded of when Pork begged Pa to buy Dilcey from Twelve Oaks. That's not how we do things, now. He should be offered the position with the option to take it or leave it, and in the meanwhile, maybe something else will come up."

Rhett leaned back on the study sofa, since Scarlett was sitting at the desk at the moment, and sipped his whisky. "You've learned a certain amount of balance and consideration, my dear."

Her forehead wrinkled. "I'm not sure I've learned anything. It all gets so much more difficult every time there's something new." Her forehead smoothed out and her hand went to her middle.

"Have you been to see Doctor Meade, yet?"

"It feels too early, but soon." Her face puckered up again.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I've just been feeling ill all day. I'm sure it's just a symptom."

"I think you need to rest. Shall I see you upstairs?"

"Maybe that's a good idea." Scarlett stood up, but then leaned down, putting both hands on the desk. "A very good idea. I don't feel very well."

"Scarlett?" Rhett walked around the desk to put his arm around her. There were drops of blood on the floor. He leaned down to pull her up into his arms and shouted for someone to get the doctor.

* * *

Several hours later, Doctor Meade came out of the bedroom. Rhett stood up from the hallway bench, the remnants of several cigars lying at his feet. Was Scarlett going to be all right?

"She'll be fine," were the first words out of Doctor Meade's mouth. Sometimes these things just happen, sometimes it's for the best. Either there's something wrong with the child or the mother just can't handle it, sometimes there's just no explanation."

"Scarlett has always been so healthy. Will she be able to have children later, if she wants?"

"There's no reason to believe that she will have any difficulty in the future. I'll stop in to see her, to make sure she's recovering, for as long as necessary."

After shaking the doctor's hand, Rhett went into the bedroom. Scarlett was asleep, her face very white. He took off his ascot and shoes and got into the bed with her. When he slipped an arm around her, she sighed and cuddled toward him, sliding her arm along his.

The next morning, Scarlett said his name. "Rhett." There was that whispery voice and the soft eyes that he knew were just for him.

"My dear," he whispered. He sat up and let her move into his arms. She seemed so fragile. "Are you feeling any better?" He kissed her hairline gently.

"I'm so sorry, Rhett, I should have seen Doctor Meade sooner."

"He didn't think it would have made a difference."

"You must be so disappointed. You knew exactly what you wanted this baby to be like."

"I got caught up in the moment. You were very clear that it was uncertain at the time."

"You saw how careful I've been."

She'd been very careful to avoid any form of physical strain, and even the mental strains of her work were minimal. "I'm sure it wasn't your fault in the least."

"Then how could it happen? How could my body do such a thing to me?"

"I do not know, but it doesn't change the fact that you are the one woman I've ever loved."

She looked up at him, doubt in her eyes. "But I'm somehow defective. I can't even have a baby properly."

He shook his head. "I would never measure you by our children, Scarlett. I always wanted you for you."

"But you don't, any more."

He ran his hand through her hair. "I enjoy being with you. I always admired the way you reach out and do what you want and say what you think. I still admire it. As for children, if you want to try again we can, and if you don't, there are ways we can avoid it. The Jonesboro doctor said it might be two years and it's not even one and a half since Gerald was born. It's just not time yet."

"Can you forgive me?"

"I don't see anything to forgive, but I do if it helps you."

She clung to his vest, burrowing into him. They sat together for quite a while, crying together.

* * *

A month and a half later, Rhett followed his wife up onto the train. Ahead, Wade and Ella found places to sit down in front of them and Scarlett followed. Rhett held Gerald in his arms. He put the baby between his siblings and helped Scarlett with her hat and coat before guiding her into a seat.

"Are you sure your mother won't be angry with me?" she asked yet again.

His face was kind as he looked at her. He answered, yet again, "No my dear, she will be delighted to see you and to see that you've recovered."

Ella bounced on her seat a little. "I can't wait to see Grandma Rosalyn."

"Will we have the same rooms?" asked Wade.

"Everything will be the same as the last time," Rhett assured them.

He wished he could be as sure of Scarlett. Doctor Meade had cleared her to resume normal activities, even with her husband, but Scarlett was still very timid and unsure of herself. Rhett had very gently tried to take her into his arms, but she'd cried until he had to give up. He was at his wits' end.

"Perhaps a change of scenery," Doctor Meade told him. "I've never seen her like this. It's entirely unlike her. Surely something will bring her back to herself."

Rhett listened to the doctor and changed plans. Staying in Atlanta was apparently out of the question and Tara did not seem to be the best place this time. Suellen Benteen was expecting another baby and competition between the sisters was always high. Instead of the Christmas in Atlanta they had planned, they would go to Charleston.

 _A/N: The outpouring of love is amazing. Thank you all so very much, especially **Laina Lee, Melody-Rose-20, Guest 1 & 2, gumper, , sj372419, Truckee Gal, ****Romabeachgirl1981** , and **lostrocket.**_


	23. Chapter 23

_Disclaimer: The characters here and teh world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

"Scarlett! My dear!" Rhett watched his mother take his wife into her arms.

"I'm so sorry," whispered Scarlett.

"My dear, you have nothing to be sorry for," answered Rosalyn. Rhett could see his wife trembling in his mother's arms. Rosalyn looked up at him. "Why don't you take the children upstairs? I think Scarlett and I need to have a talk."

Rhett did as his mother asked but then went to his mother's room and listened at the door. He could hear quiet talking and crying, but couldn't tell what was being said. He paced for a few minutes, but then remembered there would be a small meal downstairs. He went to his bedroom to freshen up and took the children down.

"Marie," he said to the woman who was serving the meal, "I think my mother and wife will be staying upstairs."

"We've already sent up a tray, sir," she responded. "She requested it as soon as she went up."

"Very well," he answered, feeling somewhat useless.

He spent the rest of the day with the children. Wade wanted to discuss his schoolwork. Father Halloran didn't spend as much time with him when school was in session, but Wade had some questions about his Latin and Greek. Rhett talked him through the translations, and Ella came up to them and listened. Rhett couldn't fathom where her interest and ability in ancient languages could come from, but he knew she would need more than the education available to her in Atlanta to prepare for the academic future he envisioned. Perhaps Scarlett's youngest sister could help find a situation.

Jerry half stomped, half toddled over and put up his arms, shouting "Pa! Pa! Pa!" He pulled the child up into his lap and absent-mindedly kissed the black curls on his head. It was not unlike Bonnie in the nursery, but also very different. Scarlett had said the first recognizable word from Gerald had been "Da," yet it appeared that she had encouraged him to call Rhett "Papa." She'd once complained, long ago, that Bonnie would say "Daddy" in every sentence if she could. He'd responded that it was the most precious word he'd ever heard. Was "Papa" a way to soften the comparison to the other child? The small bit of thoughtfulness on her part warmed him.

* * *

At last Rosalyn's door opened. Rhett came to the door of the nursery and looked, expectantly, at his mother and wife. Rosalyn had her arm around Scarlett's shoulders and was guiding her in his direction.

"I think she needs an early night," said Rhett's mother. "You will know best how to take care of her, I think." The look on her face was all-too knowing. "And meanwhile, I want to have dinner with my grandchildren." She came forward and took Jerry from Rhett while reaching out to hug the other two.

"I'm just so worried that you won't want me anymore," said Scarlett, once they were alone. "You've only wanted me for one thing, and I'm so worried that it will happen again." He turned her around and unfastened her travelling dress.

"Didn't Doctor Meade say you were unlikely to miscarry again?"

"How could he possibly know? There was no reason for it to happen this time! I did _everything_ right."

The corset was gone now, and he helped her into her wrapper. He pulled her onto his lap as though she were one of the children. "I want you for more than the one thing," he admitted. She pulled away to look at him with a question in her eyes. "Of course, I do want that, but we can avoid the question of another loss."

She smiled, a soft uncertain smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I think I would like that."

He kissed her, then, the first real kiss in months, and she responded by pressing herself against him. "I love you," she whispered.

He couldn't answer, so he kissed her along her temple.

There was a knock at the door. Rhett went to get the tray that Rosalyn had sent up. There was a rich stew and fresh bread. Scarlett helped him lay everything out on a table near the piazza doors, and they ate together.

"Did you ever decide which gin you would purchase next?" he asked her.

She looked up in some surprise. "I did get to see both of them, during that week you were gone. It seems so long ago. Everything seems so long ago that was before…"

"Which did you like better?" he said quickly, to keep her on the happier subject.

"The Macon one is in better shape, but I keep coming back around to the Jonesboro one."

"That would keep the two you own close together, making it easier to manage from that standpoint."

"Yes, and the Jonesboro one is where Tara's cotton used to be ginned. The workings will need to be completely gone over. No one is sure exactly what happened, but it appears the Yankees set fire to the cotton and it got hot enough to melt parts of the machinery. Really, the only reason I have to choose that one is my own attachment to Jonesboro."

He thought for a moment. "So the best solution might be to pull out all of the old machinery for scrap and have new brought in."

"I can't afford that."

Rhett reached across the table. "Your business partner can. In the long term, there may be sound business reasons why it's the better option, to have machinery that you know is well made and new."

Her eyes lit up and the shadow of a dimple showed. "Captain Butler, you surely know how to sweet talk a girl."

He laughed aloud at that.

Later, when they dimmed the lights and prepared for bed, Rhett assured his wife that they would take precautions this time. Scarlett nodded gratefully. "Is it foolish that I both desperately want to have another child and fear it at the same time?"

"It's how I felt the whole time you were pregnant with Gerald—that I knew about it. We will take this slowly. We can avoid a child for now. If we change our minds, then we will see."

She pressed herself to him then. He quickly realized that she had been missing their intimacy as much as he had.

* * *

Rhett found himself enjoying their holiday. Scarlett came back to herself as he watched carefully over her, barely aware that he enjoyed the sense that she depended upon him. On mild days he bundled her up and took her for walks along the Battery, enjoying her observations of the difference between seeing the waterway now and when she'd been there before, during late summer. He took her to a performance of selections from _La Traviata_ and handed her his handkerchief when she soaked her own crying over the fate of poor Violetta. Everything seemed to make him feel more tender toward her. Perhaps it was the softening of her soul, or perhaps it was the way that she allowed herself to need him. Very likely it was both.

He took her back out to Butler's Point, the long way around on horseback this time, and showed her the improvements. Her eyes glinted in appreciation of what Rosemary and Francis accomplished. He took her hand and asked if she minded whether he deeded the entire property to his brother and sister some day, giving sole ownership of the house to his sister. Scarlett smiled and shook her head. It wasn't lost on her that it meant he was allowing this tie to Charleston to be severed forever. "Do you think Gerald might want it, though?" she asked.

"We can see how that goes over time, whether he will want it."

* * *

Before they went to bed on Christmas Eve, Scarlett held a package out to Rhett with a worried look. "What is this?" he asked. She shook her head, seemingly unable to speak. He opened it and then didn't know what to say.

She'd put together a book of pictures of Bonnie. The first was of her as a newborn baby, and then there was a picture of the five of them as a family, before the fight that kept them apart afterwards. She had gathered a couple of dozen photographs in all, spanning all of Bonnie's life. Rhett traced one of the pictures and asked, "When did you do this?"

Scarlett answered softly, "I wanted to give it to you on that first Christmas—Doctor Meade was so worried about your health but you were so distant. I thought it might break the ice, but you left me before I could give it to you. This is the first year we've been together since. I still miss her so much and even finally being with you I miss her."

"You put this together before I left you?"

She nodded. "I wanted you to have something easy to carry for remembering. There never seemed to be a good time to give it to you."

"Do you mind if I add to it?"

"It's for you. I hope you use it as you like."

"I still miss her."

"I do, too."

That night for the first time almost since she was born, they spoke of their eldest child. They compared notes on her fearlessness as well as her determination and her occasional impishness. They each mentioned how dearly she loved the other parent. They fell asleep clasped tightly the together, tear streaks on their faces.

Rhett woke Scarlett early on Christmas morning to give her a special gift he wanted her to have, on this first Christmas they'd spent together since Bonnie's accident.

"Oh, Rhett," she whispered as he put the collar of diamonds and emeralds around her neck. She let the blankets fall, and he remembered she had been wearing nothing when they went to sleep the night before. In the early morning light, she was pearly white skin and black hair, and her eyes gleamed along with the emeralds.

"Scarlett," he hissed, reaching for the nightstand.

She put her hand on his arm. "Rhett, you don't need to do that on my account. I'm willing to risk my heart again… if you are."

"Darling," he whispered before he pulled her close. She was fully his, in a way she'd never been before, understanding the risks as she now did and holding nothing back. She told him she loved him as she trembled in his arms, and as wonderful as it had been in the past, he was transported with how much better it was now.

Afterward, he wondered if he'd ever met a woman as strong and brave as she was. He knew there was no one who caught his attention the way she had. "There's no one like you," he murmured into her neck as he kissed her. If she looked a little stricken or disappointed, she quickly covered it up.

"Should we get up? I'm sure the children are excited," she said.

"Lie with me a little longer, my sweet?" he asked. He wanted to savor the perfection of this moment. She smiled and snuggled in his arms, all but purring when he kissed and caressed her gently, whispering how sweet she was.

* * *

Prissy was finishing with her hair when he looked in on her later. There was a tear running down her face as she fingered the collar. He'd known that it would perfectly match the dress she'd planned for this day, green with a damask jacquard worked into it, a creamy fichu filling in above the low neckline. Her hair was piled high and the diamonds and emeralds shone brilliantly against her lovely skin. Prissy nodded to Rhett and slipped away.

"This isn't supposed to be a day of sadness," he said. He leaned down to kiss just below her ear.

"I can't understand how different it is. Just a few weeks ago I thought my life was over, and you've—you fixed so many things this month."

"Is that all? Is there any wish that hasn't been fulfilled?"

She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. "I couldn't ask for a single thing."

"What is it?"

She looked at him in the vanity mirror. "Your love." She turned around in her seat and looked at him directly. "I know I shouldn't ask it. I'm trying to give you time. You asked, though, and—"

He picked up her hand to kiss it. "Hush, dear. It's natural that you should wish for something like that from your husband of all people. I'm the one who's not doing his share."

"You've made it clear that I don't deserve it, and I'm not asking—"

He lifted her up and kissed her lips. "You really don't know how to be quiet some times, nor when to ignore one of the many damn things I say." He put his forehead to hers and looked into her eyes. "First of all, you do deserve it, and if I could, I would be all that you wish. I don't know if our marriage will ever follow the conventional pattern. I can tell you that no woman has infuriated me or pleased me as much as you, and the things we're doing together, the memories we make and our children as well, are what I think of when we're apart."

 _A/N: Statistically, as often as Scarlett's been pregnant, she was likely to have at least one miscarriage by now. Nowadays, even with huge improvements in nutrition, it works out to about one in four pregnancies (without an external problem like falling down a staircase). That's not to say I'm sitting here with a spreadsheet, injecting such things at proper intervals. Truly, as the story unfolded in my mind, this is just what happened, but it passes the reality check in my mind because of real-life statistics about such things. Also of note: Women of Scarlett's state in life in that era averaged 7-10 babies each, which is consistent with Margaret Mitchell's own family according to Wikipedia._

 _Yes, Rhett's starting to act more like a husband. The overall story arc, as originally designed, was to show them sort of spiraling closer to each other. There's too much story left yet for that to stay perfect, but the good news is there's more story! Thanks to all the lovely readers and reviewers, including **gabyhyatt, Truckee Gal, kanga85, Romabeachgirl1981, Guest, abbygale94,** **samandfreddie,** and **Melody-Rose-20.**_

 _P.S. Thanks to Truckee Gal for noting an error in the text that is now fixed._


	24. Chapter 24

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

 _A/N: I'm going to be indulgent and describe what happened in this chapter as originally imagined. Rhett was going to send the family home while chaperoning his sister's courtship. Everything would remind him of Scarlett and he would send long and loving letters. Francis would finally declare himself, and Rhett would go home and walk through his own house, realizing everything he wanted was there, including the one woman who could match him. I could wrap up the story pretty quickly from there._

 _This is not that chapter._

Scarlett and the children went back to Atlanta without Rhett. He'd thought of going with her, but Rosemary and Francis still had a few decisions that must be made before springtime. Scarlett had to be back in Atlanta for the old guard's party on the first Sunday of the year. He therefore found himself waving good-bye as the train pulled out of the Charleston station a few days after Christmas, promising that he'd be home before too many weeks passed. Until then, the teacup would sit upon the shelf on his bedroom here in Charleston while he worked.

As he was walking out of the station, he passed a woman who looked vaguely familiar. A moment later, that lady had grasped his arm and said, "Rhett Butler, don't tell me you don't recognize me!" In that instant, he did.

"Alice Byrd! Whatever are you doing here?"

"Alice Davies, now, Rhett. My father died, and I've been going through his things."

"Do you have time to have a cup of tea?"

"Yes, I'd like that." A soft pink came and went in her cheeks.

He studied her as she ordered her tea and scones. He could remember when she'd hung on every word he said, the thirteen-year-old sister of some boys he once ran with. She'd had adorable blond pigtails then, and silver-blue eyes that seemed to see things just beyond the horizon. At sixteen the blonde hair had been in curls and the eyes had danced more. Today, in what must be her early forties, she was still lovely, a silver and gold fairy.

"I thought you would hate me forever," Rhett said.

"I was devastated at the time, Rhett. I was sixteen, you know, and I thought we would fall madly in love. I lived or died on everything you ever did or said. That you didn't love me back then was the heartbreak of my life."

Where had he heard that story before? It came to him that she sounded much like Scarlett speaking of Ashley Wilkes. Rhett had despised Wilkes for much of his life, and now he discovered he'd been like Ashley for Alice. He needed a different topic of conversation.

"Surely your husband supplanted me."

She smiled in a twisted sort of way. "I never married until the war when every man wanted a wife to leave behind. He didn't particularly care whether I loved him or not, and I was widowed within six months."

This was again similar to Scarlett's story. Surely there was something that wasn't the same. "Tell me the story of your life since I shot your brother," Rhett said, unable to let bygones be bygones, and eager to get the most distasteful part of the conversation over with.

"My brother challenged you. He might have better shot himself and saved us all a great deal of trouble."

"That's generous of you," he replied.

"It's been so many years, and I understand our fathers are both gone now?" She looked up at him and Rhett nodded. "If two people are out after dark and no harm was done, it needn't be a big deal as long as people keep quiet about it. I told them that broadcasting everything wasn't the way to your heart, that you'd be more likely to propose if we let it be."

"Alice…"

"You weren't interested in anyone else, Rhett. I always thought, in later years, that if you hadn't been forced, you might have come to it naturally."

He thought a moment. She was still quite lovely. They might have grandchildren by now. "Perhaps it would have worked out that way, but we'll never know. I refused to be forced into anything, and I was set against any of the natural choices in my life. Tell me what your life has been instead."

"There's not much to tell," she answered. "I went North, where well-educated Southern ladies are in demand to teach in the young ladies' seminaries. Eventually, I became a headmistress at such a school, and I found good society among other Southerners who for one reason or another were also living in the same city."

Rhett smiled. "That's a much better life than you would have had with me, I'm sure."

"Is it?" She looked wistful. "As I said, I married my husband, who came back south to Tennessee right before hostilities started, and never saw him again. He worked on Wall Street and had no interest in a wife, but thought he owed it to his parents to try to leave an heir before he went. I guess we weren't together long enough." She sipped her tea and carefully put the cup back on its saucer. "And really, that's all there is."

Rhett couldn't help noticing the contrast. Scarlett seemed to get pregnant every time he tipped his hat to her. For all he knew… Alice was tapping his hand with her own.

"Rhett, tell me, what of you? One hears wild stories of you."

He smiled ruefully, unwilling to tell her of Scarlett. So much of that was still too new and perfect to share. "I was having my own personal Gotterdammerung. I accomplished much, but I lost much, too."

She patted his hand again. "I heard that you had a little girl who died."

"She was too young to be jumping ponies, but she and I both took such pride in it. My marriage came crashing down when the inevitable happened."

"I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." He swallowed hard. This was the first time he'd ever actually been able to describe what had happened to his daughter. He still couldn't speak her name in regard to it. It was still too precious.

Alice was looking at him, expecting something—what? He cleared his throat. "How long are you in Charleston?"

"Mother wants me to stay for the season, but I was in the train station to arrange passage home. It's so awkward, all of the men wonder who I am, and then they remember. I'm stuck in this New Years thing, but I'm hoping to escape."

 _This was it._ This was a chance for Rhett to get out of the house during the evening while Francis wooed his sister. It might also reclaim what he'd lost so many years ago when he'd been cast out of the world he belonged to. Scarlett was life itself to him, but this was _Charleston_. This was what he was raised to, his birthright, and it would just be a few parties. He took a deep breath and let it out. "I could escort you," he said. "I'll be in town for a while."

Alice's whole face lit up, and he saw more than a hint of the charming girl she'd once been. "Rhett! That would be lovely!"

* * *

Rhett's mother did not think it was lovely. She told him so as looked at a mirror in the hallway to straighten his jacket for a New Year's Eve party. "You have a beautiful wife and a sweet son. What are you doing with the Byrd girl?"

" _This_ is my world, mother. _This_ is where I belong, and what I had always been meant to do."

"If you wreck your marriage, I'm moving to Atlanta."

He kissed his mother's cheek and left. "This has nothing to do with my marriage."

Alice was all that he remembered and more. In twenty-five years she had developed depths that had not yet been there when she was a girl. Now she'd not only grown in the social graces, she'd taught them to other young women. Rhett listened to her speak the language of his childhood and felt truly at home in a way he had not been in years.

After making a sizeable donation to the right charity and pulling a few strings, Rhett secured invitations to the Saint Cecelia Ball. When he arrived at Alice's house, he found her wearing a creamy dress covered with green flowers. She was too old for it, and something about it was just _wrong._ He'd covered his feeling quickly with an ironic smile, and he'd been unable to do anything beyond hand her the flowers he'd brought her for the occasion and offer his arm. He wouldn't let anything ruin this experience for him. He'd been cast out of Charleston before he was old enough to be considered an eligible bachelor for the ball, and this would be his first one. Yet for some reason it wasn't quite what he expected or hoped; he kept looking for something that wasn't there.

"They say you're falling in love with her," said Rosemary one morning in late January.

"I'm—enjoying life in Charleston for once. Eat your eggs," answered Rhett.

"You promised Scarlett you'd be there for her Valentine-themed party next week."

"This has nothing to do with Scarlett. I've already written to tell her that I've been detained by the plantation."

Rosemary looked at him in horror. "Rhett, everything we need you for is ready for is done. Francis will take care of it all, and Thomas could probably handle anything we haven't yet covered. You're lying, and I won't lie to protect you."

"Has Scarlett asked?"

"No," said Rosemary, "and I'm a little worried. She never writes about anything but her businesses anymore. There's not even very much about the children. It's as though she's aware of something."

He was humming a tune from last night's ball. He didn't hear her. He still saw the cup on his bookshelf, but not in the same way. It didn't catch his imagination any more as it had. There were plenty of cups in perfect condition in the world.

Alice and Rhett took long walks along the Battery together. They toured many parts of town, discussing Shakespeare and Longfellow and Keats. Rhett realized that he'd finally met a lady who could fulfill his intellectual needs. Some nagging whisper tugged at his mind, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what could be so important. He didn't need to explain things to her, and she didn't make odd comments about literature they discussed, which took some of the salt out of things, but allowed deeper discussion. He didn't need to be harsh or sarcastic with her; she was already aware of so much. On one unseasonably warm day, or perhaps the season was later than he realized, Alice tugged him into an alcove and kissed him. He pulled away.

"Rhett?" she'd asked.

"I'm not sure we should be doing this," he said, not sure he could remember why. She pulled him down to kiss again. It wasn't any better than the first, but then Alice was a lady. He batted away the nagging whisper. The kisses didn't matter.

The early spring held new delights. Rhett took Alice everywhere. Since they'd already weathered scandal together, they didn't care whether people saw them, although he'd kept the kisses few, far between and in secret places. They never seemed to improve, and he rediscovered that Alice got a bit boring once one exhausted a few subjects. He remembered describing her as a bore to someone in Atlanta. That whisper was still incoherent but getting louder.

He went out to Butler's Point alone once a week, walking along the paths, watching the house go up, and breathing the air of his childhood. Alice angled to join him on those visits. He wouldn't take her. He was looking for a reason to keep it or give it away. One afternoon he finally happened upon the spot where his childhood had ended and his father became a tyrant to him. It felt as though he had his answer, but he wondered if Gerald would feel differently. Could he make this decision for his son? Whose decision was it to make?

It all came crashing down just after Easter at a party he attended in a refurbished house on the Battery.

"Rhett, I think I may stay in Charleston," Alice said as they waltzed around the room. "I used to hate to come here, but I'm sure it's where I belong, now."

He smiled down on her. "I'm sure you know where you'll be happiest."

Later on, he was watching the dancing and thinking that everything about the Charleston season was somehow smaller than he'd always been taught to expect as a boy. This couldn't be the world of gentility he was looking for. Another gentleman stepped up behind him. "I see you're going to correct the mistakes of your past." Rhett recognized the voice and turned to look at his brother.

Without exchanging greetings, he asked, "What do you mean, Thomas?"

"You're going to marry Alice now, aren't you? You've been everywhere together. It's clear that you've become very close."

"I'll do nothing of the sort." Suddenly the nagging whispers became clear and he realized what he'd been doing and how it was perceived. Rhett had been mostly numb for the two and a half years since Melanie Wilkes had died. Now an emotion returned to him that he felt all the way through to the pit of he stomach: shame. "I already have a wife."

He made his apologies to Alice and left the party. That night he went to his mother's house and held the teacup in his hand, tracing the gold lines to relearn them again and even kissing it before he put it back. Alice represented Charleston, all the things he'd been raised to expect and desire. Yet Charleston had cast him off, and he had created a new world for himself. _His_ world was represented by Scarlett, who out of all women could experience the worst he had to offer and still love him. He thought of the night he'd carried her up the stairs and what happened afterward. Not only had Scarlett accepted it, she had _gloried_ in it. And now Charleston was asking him to give that up? Charleston was wrong.

Rhett glanced through the letters Scarlett had sent him during the winter. The first few were warm and loving, but she'd cooled significantly since then, and there had been no letter at all for the past several weeks. What did she know? How angry could she be? He found himself later in Scarlett's room, breathing in the scent she had left behind. It was time to make plans to go home.

* * *

Several days later Rhett was walking along the Battery with Alice to tell her good bye. "I've written a letter to my school, resigning my post," she told him, before he could explain his purpose.

"What are you planning to do now?"

She bumped his elbow with her parasol. " _You_ know."

"I really don't."

"Everyone saw you come out of the jeweler's yesterday. We all know what to expect. You don't have to beat around the bush, darling."

"I have no idea what anyone expects. I bought a bracelet for my wife, to match the necklace I bought her at Christmas."

"Your— _wife_?"

"Scarlett." He pulled a wallet containing some photographs out of his pocket. "This is Scarlett, and our son, Gerald, and here are Wade and Ella, her other children. They were here in town for Christmas and I've taken far too long getting home to them."

"You told me your marriage fell apart. I don't mind that you're divorced. I'll still marry you."

"We will never be divorced. We've just been apart, and not entirely. As you can see, we've even had Gerald since then. Scarlett didn't want a divorce, and she was right."

"Rhett—you all but told me you were divorced. I never would have—not if I knew you were still _married_. Do you love her?"

"There's a long and boring answer to that question and unfortunately no short one could suffice. All I can say is that from the moment I first saw who she was, I knew we have the same essence and belong together."

"You've been kissing me all this time…"

"No, Alice, you've been kissing me. You've known for thirty years that I'm a cad."

"I thought—I expected—"

He smiled, a little cruelly, "You should have known better." He rethought himself and sighed. "Alice, I'm sorry. I lost my head. This was nothing more than a fantasy, an empty one at that… and it's time for me to go back to Atlanta. I brought you here to tell you I'm leaving. I'm going home."

 _A/N2: Thank you to all the readers and reviewers, including **gabyhyatt, kanga85, Truckee Gal, abbygale94, samandfreddie,** **Romabeachgirl1981** , and **Guest.**_


	25. Chapter 25

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

 _A/N: Sometimes, when typing along on a story, I know exactly what I'm doing with it, and suddenly a character or two takes me on a joy ride. The previous chapter was such an occasion, on a day when word count was everything. I hated every word of it, and yet it rang truer than what I was planning and I decided to see where it would end. And so I've been biting my nails since the last day of November, wondering how this would read. Most of you seem to be furious at Rhett, but not at me, which I will take to be a good sign. I'm going to breathe a sigh of relief and post the next chapter right away in response, because that ended on a bit of a cliffhanger and I imagine everyone wants to know what's been happening in Atlanta._

* * *

The Peachtree Street house was empty when Rhett got home. He walked through the house and found the study, which was overly clean except for an envelope on the middle of the desk. It had his name on it with Scarlett's handwriting. There was also a pile of letters to the side.

Rhett picked up the top letter, recognizing her Aunt Pauline's writing. Enclosed was a clipping from the Charleston Daily News. There was a picture of Rhett smiling down upon Alice during the Saint Cecelia ball. Pauline's letter was filled with too much of his doings, and summarized with, "They say he's going to marry her soon. I hope your divorce won't prevent you from your kindnesses to your aunts, small as they are."

Rhett knew a momentary urge to throttle the woman, but realized the blame was his alone. There were other letters, from people whose names echoed in the memories of his youth., a friend of Doctor Meade's, a relation of Mrs. Elsing's. Something had been sent to Mrs. Bonnell from an old school-mate. The past three months of Rhett's life in Charleston were very well documented, including one description of Rhett sitting with Alice to have that first cup of tea at the train station. Nothing was inaccurate, exactly, but the letters and clippings made it look like he planned to marry Alice. How did he miss all of those items in the paper? What must Scarlett think?

He picked up the letter from Scarlett.

 _My Dearest Love,_

 _I know I won't have the right to call you this much longer, but please let me just this once more._

 _You win. It was a game to you, wasn't it?_

 _I understand perfectly. and I will be as dignified now as I was undignified when you told me you were leaving two years ago. It didn't take you thirty-three years; it was a matter of weeks to find someone you wanted to marry. I've agreed with Uncle Henry to draw up the papers for you, and then you can be free of me. By the time you read this it will only need your signature. You only ever wanted me for your mistress, after all. We can pretend that's all it was. The passel of brats and I will soon be out of your life._

 _I'm angry, Rhett. I'm hurt and heartbroken and I don't understand how this could happen. I was starting to think you might love me again, and it was snatched away. I realized it didn't really exist after all. Everything I thought I knew is a lie. I'm young and foolish and nothing about me is good enough for you to do anything but mock. I know it to be true now and that it may as well have been true since the moment we met at Twelve Oaks._

 _I've had more people come to call this winter than in the whole time since we built the house. I've seen letters and newspaper clippings since a week after we got back. Everyone seems to have a relative or school mate who lives in Charleston, and they all know all about you. "Rhett's been to this ball or that party. He's been seen with this woman all around town. They say it's the perfect match." Each so confidentially. They all wanted me to know, privately while staying far longer than a visit should last, so they could see how I reacted. Poking me with their pins and needles and sticks and knives, wanting to see what color I bleed. And then the nightmare comes back, but now there are echoes of laughter. Every home I pass is filled with people who are happy and comfortable, and they're laughing at me, knowing I can't possibly catch up to you, and you're laughing most of all, happy with your Alice and your Charleston and all the rest. I feel like I can't breathe anymore. Doctor Meade says it's no good for me in Atlanta and I'm going to kill myself trying to continue here. He's making me leave._

 _This Alice Byrd… she's so pretty in the pictures, and she's just the sort of lady you should have married long ago, and there's such a romance in righting a long-ago wrong. In that picture from Aunt Pauline you look so in love with her… Am I selfish to keep you when you could have that, when all I do is vex you? Aunt Pauline and Aunt Eulalie seem to think so._

 _You wanted to make peace with your people. You said that when you first told me you were leaving, and I understand the loneliness behind that wish. I want that for you. This would do it up in a bow. And somehow everyone in Atlanta accepts me, now that your marriage to this other woman is a foregone conclusion. They feel so bad for me, and Uncle Henry thinks he's saving me, and now that it's spring and they've tortured me enough, Atlanta wants to love me and support me again. I suppose a divorce would make peace with my people, too. There are so many reasons we ought to do it. Yet I made myself sick at the thought of it, and so I had to leave Atlanta._

 _I will be selfish and admit that while Uncle Henry and the others—they tell me that if I can divorce you, I'll be free of you, I know won't. Since before we married, I've always wondered who you're dancing with and who is dizzy from your kisses. Since our marriage, whenever you didn't come home I wondered who is lying in your arms, and who gets to curl up next to you afterwards in those moments when you smoke that last cigar and sometimes tell me things and let me see what you're really like. Although I guess I will know, now. I can't stop loving you, Rhett. I don't know if I can do what I went through this winter any more. I'm not as strong as I was when I was so gone over Ashley. I had you then, and I counted on it more than I knew. You dance so beautifully, and no one kisses like you, and… Well you know what the other things do to me. Even when I wished for Ashley, I wanted those things from you. I should have realized, or perhaps I was smart enough then to know it wouldn't have mattered._

 _Please don't follow me, Rhett. You had planned to leave before, to make peace with your people and to look for the charm and grace of the world that once was. You can have that now, and I will try to content myself with our children and my memories._

 _I love you my darling, and therefore I know I must let you go, to give you the peace you've always wanted. Your very own, Scarlett._

So she knew everything, probably more than he did. This letter was very well written, probably copied over and over again during the past few months. Tara was the only place Scarlett would go to lick her wounds, but then Suellen Benteen was expecting a baby. His hands shook as he got a sense of the humiliation his wife must feel.

"Captain Butler." It was the new maid, Nan.

"Yes?"

"There are some gentlemen at the door." She handed him Henry Hamilton's card.

"Thank you, Nan. I will meet them in the parlor."

Rhett blew his nose and poured himself a finger of whisky. They must have been watching for him at the train station, or perhaps someone in the house was given directions to send for them as soon as he arrived. Hamilton no doubt wanted his signature as quickly as they could get it. They might offer him a ride to the station if he obliged. He took a breath and then took his drink. He had no intention of being obliging. He would get this conversation settled as quickly as possible.

He found Henry Hamilton and Doctor Meade as well as Sylvester Hammond, Henry's new associate. Rhett cleared his throat. "Henry, Doctor Meade, I didn't expect to see you so soon. Let's have a drink, shall we?" Rhett poured and handed out the glasses, and they all sat down.

Uncle Henry looked at the other two gentleman and brought a file out of his case. "On the advice of her doctor, I've gone through my niece's papers and put everything in order. At the moment she agrees, but even if she changes her mind, we're prepared to file for divorce on her behalf."

"Do you have her power of attorney?"

There as a clearing of throats. "We're working on it."

"She loves me."

Henry nodded his head, "Yes, we know you've had a hold on her since the war, but we think that she's making the rational choice now."

Doctor Meade used a persuasive voice. "Surely you agree that you never intended to be a proper husband to her. We all know your relationship to Mrs. Watling, and now your affair with Mrs. Davies in Charleston is well documented. What could you possibly want from her any more?"

Henry held up the thick file. "She claims to know most of what's recent in this file, although I don't think she ever realized just how much there is. For Scarlett's sake, if you care for her at all, please consider it."

"I'm not signing anything right now. I won't agree to it, and you'll never get it through. The laws aren't that easy on women trying to divorce their husbands who fight it, and you're going to do it against her wishes."

"We believe Judge Ranier will see the situation for what it is," answered Henry.

So that's how it was. They found a friendly judge. There were a few out there, and more would be appointed as the remains of Reconstruction dissipated. There was one other authority in the matter. "What of Scarlett's church? Surely that priest she's befriended won't go along with this."

"We've discussed it with Father Halloran, and he is not happy with the idea. He has some foolish notion that you're going to return to Scarlett. He agrees that if it's legally necessary, if we find her a suitable husband, he will appeal to Rome for a declaration of nullity. He's been over your paperwork and doesn't seem to think it will be that difficult in your case."

And there it was. He'd left on his own terms, several times in the past two and a half years, and yet he'd never thought it would actually come to this. He'd always held out the possibility of divorcing Scarlett, had used it as a weapon when she was most at his mercy. Now it would be done to him. Scarlett was a woman of action. She would actually do it.

"Does she know all the arrangements you've made?"

The two lawyers and doctor looked between themselves and then at Rhett as though to question his sanity. They thought of her as just a woman. Scarlett must be in a fragile enough condition that they thought they could put one over on her.

"I take it she's ill? Where is she? Is she at Tara?"

The gentlemen looked at each other again. Doctor Meade quietly said, "She's asked us not to tell you. For her peace of mind and fragile health, I will ask you not to try to find out. I don't believe she's in any great danger as long as she's left alone. Perhaps, in time…"

"I won't sign the papers until I've seen her, spoken with her myself."

Doctor Meade put his hand on Rhett's arm. "I must insist, as her doctor, that you leave her alone for now. She needs rest more than anything."

Rhett stood up at that. "Are you saying she's sick? Could she die? I have to see her!"

"I don't think she's in danger of dying if she's not upset. Right now, though…"

"What if she gets worse and I'm not there? I want to be with her, if…"

"She will probably come to no harm if you stay here, and you may risk her life if you go. Which is better for her?"

Rhett sat down again and put his hand over his face.

Young Mr. Hammond stammered as he handed Rhett another file. "He—here are the divorce papers Captain Butler. They're ready for your signature. I'm sure you can see that Mrs. Bu—Butler has been more than fair. If this goes to court, Henry and I p—plan to ask for far more." He cleared his throat and stood a little taller. "There are other men who would b—be hap—py to care for her."

The three gentlemen stood and shook hands with him. In his opinion the action was hypocritical given the conversation that went before. Then they were gone.

Despair threatened to be the new emotion he felt. Rhett picked up the whisky decanter and his glass and went up the stairs. If he was so surely damned, he would indulge his fall tonight.

 _A/N2: Thanks to the readers and reviewers, including **gumper, gabyhyatt, Guest 1 & 2 & 3 & 4, Snowandbows, , Twilighternproud, kanga85, samandfreddie, Romabeachgirl1981, Laina Lee, abbygale94,** and **Truckee Gal.**_


	26. Chapter 26

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

* * *

Rhett woke in the pre-dawn in Scarlett's bed—their bed—holding one of his nightshirts that by now smelled more of her than of him. He felt like death, but he could remember another person to speak with, someone who, in his experience, had been impartial. Rhett was waiting outside the church as daily Mass ended.

"I take it the gentleman have given you their ultimatum," said Father Halloran, looking him up and down.

He brought Rhett into a small drawing room at the rectory and gave him a cup of coffee. Rhett sat where he was told.

"Captain Butler—Rhett," started the priest, "I must confess I'm sorely disappointed. Sorely. Do you really wish to set Scarlett aside and marry this other woman?"

"No," whispered Rhett. "It never for a minute crossed my mind. I never thought what it looked like, what expectations it would engender."

"Do you want to reconcile with your wife?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"She's the only person who ever seemed to match me."

"Setting aside what happened in Charleston for now, why did you leave so many times?"

"I couldn't—" What couldn't he do? There must be some way to explain it. "I couldn't stay. She is part and parcel of the world here. Even though they can't stand her, she's one of theirs and they back her in their way, especially against me, it would seem. So when it comes down to it, if we can't agree, if there are too many harsh words between us, I'm the one who must go."

"Why must either of you go?"

"It's broken."

"What's broken?"

" _We_ are."

The priest sat back in his chair and stared at Rhett. "I asked Scarlett about this, about what was broken, not long after you and I met. She said she never quite understood what you meant. When we spoke, she said she realized that you'd always been looking for something and hoping to find something within her but she never knew until it was too late that you wanted her love."

"I thought she understood me, that we were the same."

"Exactly what attracted you to her?"

"The first time I met her, she was yelling at someone who'd hurt her and smashed some ornament she happened to lay hands on. She had such fire and passion, and she didn't care about convention."

"Did you tell her that's what you loved about her?"

"I frequently brought it up, although I never told her I loved her. I would often tease her just to get her to act like that."

"And when she did, what did you do?"

"I—" Realization dawned— "I belittled her for the very things I claimed to like."

"Did you ever give yourself to her?"

"I watched over her, protected her, showered her with gifts…"

"Did you ever give her _yourself_?"

"How could I, when she's so vicious to everything precious given to her?"

"Is that true?"

It wasn't. She'd protected and cared for Melanie Wilkes for a decade because Melanie's husband knew how to ask. "No, she was always capable of a backhanded sort of delicacy. She's capable of caring. I rarely looked for ways to evoke _that._ "

"Can you find the words to explain what was broken?"

Rhett thought of the chasm that had always stood between him and Scarlett, of the ways he'd tried to show how he felt, and how they were often misconstrued when he protected his heart with harsh words. The reason they were always at cross purposes was that they never knew they had so many reasons to unite. He never told her what he really thought and felt, and she would always need more than hints and sarcasm in that regard.

"Nothing is broken," he finally said. "There was never anything to break."

"There was a great deal broken in both your lives before you married. You might have used those things to build on the bond between you." Father Halloran leaned forward and spoke softly. "That bond between you and Scarlett is quite strong. There's no doubt to anyone who sees you together that you love each other and deeply." When Rhett would have argued the point, he held up his hand. "You do. You know you do or you would have simply signed the paperwork Henry Hamilton's lad drew up and taken the next train back toward Charleston. You wouldn't be sitting here, talking to me. But you have to learn to trust her with your heart. You treat her like a spoiled child, but since you met, she's carried great responsibilities."

"Working at that hospital? Providing companionship and then financial assistance to her sister in law and Pittypatt Hamilton? Keeping her family's farm afloat? All the while she hated everything to do with those burdens?"

"And yet, she carried them, with little thanks from anyone except Mrs. Wilkes."

"The one person she didn't want to thank her." He looked up at the priest. "Don't I deserve _her_ trust?"

"What do you call the last two and a half years she's spent waiting for you to come home to her when you've been gone such long periods of time? She's given herself to you, body and soul. She's given you a son, all while knowing the next time you leave you might not be back. The people of Atlanta have managed to convince her that this is that time. She's making it easy on you."

Rhett leaned over with his head in his hands. He had to acknowledge that the priest was right. Scarlett had done more than he could want, had proven her love in ways far beyond her fancy for Wilkes. This new humiliation he'd laid on her was the deepest of all. Instead of screaming at him or trying to get back at him, she'd simply given way. For Rhett, this was perhaps the greatest cut of all.

"How sick is she?"

The priest thought for a moment, opened his mouth, shut it again, and then leaned forward again. "I sat in your parlor on the last day of January as your wife read her post. There were several letters, including one from someone who sent a newspaper clipping of the Saint Cecelia ball. She had already heard from several people, of course, but she sighed and said, 'There's got to be an explanation.'

"Then she saw a letter from you. Such a look of delight on her face. Do you recall what was in that letter?"

Rhett nodded, shame filling him. It was a jovial little note telling her that he was unable to get away from plantation business for a few more weeks. In the context of the other letters she got that day, it must have seemed mocking. It fooled no one. It had proven everything she was being told.

"I've sat at many a death bed, Captain Butler. I've held the hand of many poor souls who've faced horrible things worse than death, but the look on her face as she went from joy to heartbreak is something I hope never to see again. You laid her low, Rhett, low enough that one by one, the tongues lost their viciousness and started trying to find ways to comfort her."

Perhaps that was the most telling thing of all. Atlanta hated her for all the things she had done in the past, especially the things she'd done with him. Atlanta hated her in spite of—perhaps because of—the kindnesses she'd been trying to show to it. If Atlanta was taking her to its bosom, it was because she was unable to do any of those things now. He'd destroyed her in ways the war never touched her. She was Scarlett O'Hara, the belle of five counties, the neatest trick in shoe leather, the woman who had saved her family's farm from ruin, who had built a small business empire of her own, had taken half a dozen charities on her shoulders, and he had broken her spirit. It was clear from the letter she'd written that the fire was all but out.

"I ruin everything I touch."

"I don't think that's true, although I do think you should remember what you love about your wife in your dealings with her."

"I remember, all the time I'm not with her, just why I wish she was with me."

"I think you need to tell her."

Rhett stood slowly, thinking. "Can you get a letter to her if I write one?"

He still felt horrible, but at least there was something to do, now. The teacup came out of his valise to go back onto the study shelf. There was nothing to lay it on. He looked again to be sure. The shelf containing the souvenirs of India looked strangely empty. Nothing breakable was left on it, and when he looked back in the corner, he found the smashed remains of some pottery. Rhett smiled grimly to himself, discerning the name of at least one person who visited to tell Scarlett about his activities in Charleston. Some of the other items on other shelves were broken, too, but not so many. The things he'd purchased on the anniversary of Bonnie's death were in pristine condition.

The saucer was gone. There were many reasons that could be, but he considered the woman who'd written the letter he found. Rhett thought that just perhaps, Scarlett had taken a piece of him with her when she left. It wasn't much, but it gave him hope.

 _My Dear Scarlett,_

 _You may call me whatever you please; I am yours. I have no intention of divorcing you and still less do I wish to marry the likes of Alice Byrd Davies, who holds no more enchantment for me than she did twenty-five years ago. I seem to recall telling you early in our acquaintance that she was boring to me. All her life has done since then is make her more the same. There was something interesting in learning of her life since that time, but it quickly ended. You, on the other hand, never cease to bring something new into my life—new people, new enterprises, new facets of yourself that I could only have guessed at before. I have not found your replacement, and neither do I wish to._

 _I should never have spent any time at all with Alice, certainly not beyond that cup of tea at the train station. She was an actor in a part of my life best forgotten and as such she's best forgotten as well. There's no question that I should have come home to you sooner. I was wrong, Scarlett, and I beg you to forgive me. I beg that you will give me the chance to prove that there cannot be a divorce._

 _Can you forgive my thoughtlessness? I honestly cannot explain what took hold of me in Charleston this winter. I got caught up in a sort of romantic fantasy that I was still accepted by the people who raised me. I accused you of preferring glister to gold, and I find that I was dazzled by a glister of my own, a desire for the people who tossed me aside. I finally realized that it would be at the cost of my own heart. I, who for years laughed at the hypocrisy of the old ways, became as big a hypocrite as any of them. I had no interest in Alice; it was what I could get through her, the illusion of peace with my people. It could never have lasted if I actually lived there. It turns out to be just a veneer over a world that I could never be part of._

 _I want to be part of your world, Scarlett. I always have. I want to get lost in your green eyes. I want to hear your voice, to sing with you and dance with you. I want to help you care for the children. I want to hear your new ideas for your businesses. I want to share our bed again. I want you to scold me when I go too far in teasing you and I want to simply love you. Scold me for that, my dear._

 _I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me yet again, knowing that I'm a rogue, that I've never trusted you enough to love you as freely as you've loved me these last two years. I asked Father Halloran to send this to you on my behalf so that I could let you know that I'm at home in Atlanta, hoping against hope that you will come home soon. In your absence, I ask whether there are any tasks I can perform for you. Do your gins or mill need oversight? Is the store running properly?_

 _There was no game, and no question of winning. I fear I shall lose the most if you do not come home or let me come to you. I beg you to consider it. I'm ready to give so much more than I did before, Scarlett. You need only ask._

 _Please write me back. I remain your affectionate husband, Rhett._

* * *

"How could you?" asked Wade, his face red with fury as he looked at his stepfather in the parlor.

"Are you in town, Wade?"

"I'm staying with Aunt Pitty. Mother left me at home to remain in school."

"Your exams will be at the end of next year, so you need to keep working," Rhett mused.

"That is what Mother thought." The boy shrugged and then shook himself. "How could you take up with that other woman? She's nothing like Mother."

"No one is like your mother," Rhett agreed. "I didn't take up with anyone. I simply escorted a friend to the parties and balls."

Fresh rage washed over Wade's face. "You let them all believe and expect that you had serious intentions toward that woman, a woman with whom you have a sordid history."

Rhett sighed. "There's really no excuse… not even a good explanation. I lost my head and acted in a way that I trust you will be incapable of behaving as a man."

"I have a hard time imagining it, Uncle Rhett. Mother is—"

"Yes, I know. You love your mother, and I'm not worthy of her."

The boy's eyes narrowed, confident in himself enough to know when his mother was being mocked. "I'm here because I can't miss school. Otherwise it would be my duty to stay with her. I don't know if you still belong in this family." He looked away as his lip trembled. "Uncle Henry says that now you're in town, you can divorce Mother and she will be free of you."

"I know you are angry with me, and I know your mother can't stand to even look at me right now, but I hope that when we're together again we can make it right. I'd like to try to be the husband to her that I never managed to be in the past."

"Do you have any idea what it was like, people coming to visit, constantly telling her about you? She got mad enough one day to confront you. We found her at the train station, with tickets to get to Charleston to call you out on it, but fortunately we got her home. Doctor Meade said she was so ill that she might have had a stroke if she'd actually managed to get on the train. That's when it was decided that she had to leave Atlanta."

Anguish would be today's new feeling. It shot right through Rhett and made him nauseous. He grabbed Wade by the shoulders. "Doctor Meade told me he didn't think there was any real danger. Did he lie to me? Is she better now?"

"Yes, as long as she can stay calm where she is." He peered at Rhett. "Are you going to leave us again?"

"I can't promise I won't, but never for very long, only for business."

"I'm going to Harvard in less than a year and a half. I can't leave her to be hurt. I'll take her with me instead."

"You're just a boy."

"I'll be the man of the family by then." The Hamilton eyes, so sweet and soft in Melanie, could have a firmness in them when taking on responsibility. Henry's eyes had flashed in just the same way on the previous day.

The boy was fifteen now. Rhett reflected that when he was a similar age, he felt much the same about quite a few things. "Should it come to that point, I count on your protection of her, but I don't plan that it will be a concern."

"It better not." When Wade narrowed his eyes like that, he resembled Scarlett and Gerald O'Hara.

* * *

 _A/N: Several of you have recommended that Scarlett take the kids and move to Texas. It's an excellent idea, but I don't think it's a spoiler to tell you this is not that story. It may well be a future story, because my own happy ending involves running away to Texas, and so part of me thinks everyone should run away to Texas._

 _Thank you as always to the readers and reviewers, including_ **Florausten, rhett's love, kanga85, Romabeachgirl1981, Guest, gumper, gabyhyatt, Twilighternproud, COCO B, abbygale94, Truckee Gal, samandfreddie, ,** **Kinderby,** **breakfastattiffanygs,** and **_Melody-Rose-20._**


	27. Chapter 27

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

 _I can't seem to wait until tomorrow night to post this, but we're definitely waiting until Monday morning (eastern US time) for the chapter after._

Rhett filled the days by making the rounds of the store and bank. He filled the first few nights by emptying the various bottles of liquor in the house. When those ran out, he had a choice between buying more or concentrating on the matter at hand. He didn't want to go to that sort of store, unwilling to go too many places in a town that appeared to have taken sides. As the alcohol wore off it occurred to him that being drunk wouldn't help him with Scarlett. He thought of Melanie Wilkes, who always thought of him as a gentleman, even when faced with proof to the contrary, and strengthened his resolve.

He wandered through the house, taking time to admire the new furnishings. Scarlett had become more thoughtful, he realized. Was there a moment in one argument or another when she had begged him to explain his view of the world to her? He'd brushed her off, not having the patience for her. And yet someone had helped her with all of this. As his reason cleared, he realized the colors were the same as the Ivy Street house where Melanie Wilkes had reigned so happily. The furnishings were newer and better, but consistent with Melanie's second-hand choices.

 _Melanie, again._

Rhett read the proposed divorce settlement and made some notes. About a week after he arrived in Atlanta, Sylvester Hammond showed up at his desk at the bank. "Ca—Captain Butler, by chance have you signed the divorce p—papers?"

"Of course not. Scarlett has asked for almost nothing. What sort of gentleman would I be to leave a woman like Scarlett O'Hara with so little?"

Hammond went red and stammered some more. "I—I've been given to be—believe that—"

"Ah," said Rhett, "I am not a gentleman, so I will necessarily want to cheat the woman I've loved since the war started but can no longer live with."

"Erm…"

"Whereas you, Mr. Hammond, and your associate Mr. Hamilton pride yourselves on being gentlemen. Surely you can do much better by a lady of your community, whose affairs you hope to meddle in for years to come?"

"Erm…"

Rhett handed the divorce settlement file to the other man, slapping it into his chest solidly enough to break the other man's posture. "Surely a Harvard man can do better than this for his client, especially a client as dear to you as Mrs. Butler appears to be."

Sylvester took the file and stared at it, then at Rhett. "Wa—was there anything in pa—particular you think we should add?"

"You lawyers… I can see you're trying to entrap me into lying to you. I won't insult you by giving you any information that you aren't going to trust." He shook Sylvester's hand and patted his arm as he walked him to the door of the bank. "I'll let you have the pleasure of doing your own research, ferreting out all of my dirty secrets. Good day, Mr. Hammond."

"Gu—Good day, Captain Butler."

Rhett rode his horse home from the bank and considered the grounds of the house. He'd told Scarlett that nothing could be done for the house's exterior, but as he looked now, perhaps there could.

Father Halloran joined him for dinner. Rhett told him of his meeting with Sylvester Hammond, and he smiled. "It will take some time for him to find everything, I take it?"

"At least a month, perhaps two, and then I'll send him after some of my hidden assets. Is there any chance I can see Scarlett before then?"

The priest looked thoughtful. "Scarlett's doctor says she's doing much better since reading your letter, but she's not in any condition to see you right now. He expects it to be some months," he finally answered. "I think she anticipates coming home in the fall."

"They fully plan to file for divorce soon. Do they have her power of attorney?"

"Scarlett took it with her, claiming she'd sign it after she got settled. To my knowledge she never has."

"They suggested to me that they would find a way to proceed with or without it."

Father Halloran sighed and sat back. "I don't think I will be violating any of my vows to tell you that Doctor Meade is gathering information about her in a file similar to the one Mister Hamilton has amassed about you. They're going to try to have her declared _non compos mentis_."

Rhett was aghast. "What if they overshoot their goal and she is put in an asylum?"

The priest shrugged. "They've been trying a dozen years to figure out how to get you out of Atlanta. Either way, it suits their goal."

"What is your opinion? Will it carry any weight?"

"She's done some ill-advised things, but her mind is sound. Any woman under the strain she faced this winter might do similar things. She's much easier in mind with you in Atlanta. Unless the judge is in their pocket, and if her husband is standing beside her, their attempt should fail.

Henry Hamilton had as much as said that the judge was in their pocket. It would depend upon Scarlett herself, who could charm anyone, unless the judge was someone who had received lumber from her that was less than sound. "Have you actually seen her?"

"We've exchanged letters. She sent this for you."

An envelope slid across the table. Rhett put it in his pocket. "Thank you. Does she know what Doctor Meade is planning with Mr. Hamilton about her mental state? I don't want her to have to fight against that, and I don't know how long I can hold off the divorce."

"Why do you want to hold it off?"

"I don't think either of us really wants it." Rhett knew a moment of uncertainty. "Does she?"

"She's sure it's what you wanted. Everyone in town has told her that you had found the woman you should have married all along."

"I'm married to the woman I should have married all along."

Father Halloran smiled at that and changed the subject. "How are you finding Atlanta?"

They chatted amiably as dinner ended and for a while over cigars. After an hour or so, Father took pity on him and left. "I'll leave you to your letter," he said as he took his hat.

 _Dear Rhett,_

 _I can't quite trust that you want to stay with me. I don't know what to believe any more. You were quite clear that your love has gone and that you couldn't stand to share a home with me for very long at a time. Every time you visit, you seem more interested in our life together, but you always leave again. I remember the way you told me you don't give a damn. It was as if ice had been poured over my soul. At first I thought you didn't give a damn about me, but after watching you all this time I realized there's very little in this world you do give a damn about. If this other woman can make you happy in all of the ways I can't, in all the ways you told me mattered, if she could help you to care enough to want to live your life, shouldn't you be with her?_

 _I read your letter, but I'm more confused than ever. If you never wanted her, why did you do it? If it was just about being in Charleston, why couldn't you say so? Why did your letters lie to me? Rhett, they tell me she's a school teacher, that she's practically college educated, and I know what that means. She understands all of the things you talk about. She knows what you're saying when you use those sayings in other languages. I know that one way or another you use them to mock me. Do you tell her those things? Does she mock me, too?_

 _I saw the picture of you dancing with her, and I know you dance so well. I know you can take her to places in Charleston where I will never be accepted. I've heard that you've been seen kissing her. Have you shared a bed with her as well? I torture myself late into the night with that question, when longing for you eats me alive. Do you tell her things about yourself when you smoke that last cigar afterward? Things I always enjoyed hearing but now I wish I'd paid more attention? Your voice made me feel so cared for and safe that I often drifted to sleep without realizing it._

 _Henry writes me that you don't want to sign the papers until you've seen and spoken with me. Sylvester writes that you've written all over the papers and they need to be completely redone. It all makes my head spin, Rhett, but I don't think I can see you until sometime in the fall at least. There are so many things to do and discuss that I don't think I could face you right now, even though it physically hurts me to be away from you. We've been apart this long before. I hope you'll understand. This time I'm the one who needs to be away._

 _I do appreciate your offer of some help while you're in town. Mr. Stafford is very nice, but I'm not sure he really knows what he's doing with the Jonesboro gin. He's made a frightful mess of the books, and I don't know if it's his handwriting or his figuring, but we shouldn't be turning a profit six months before we start to operate. Mr. Jenkins is much better but I would appreciate it if you looked over it all. I will write them that you might be stopping by. The cotton mill runs so smoothly that I don't worry about it as much, although perhaps someone should check on the boys._

 _I'm still angry, and terrified of doing the wrong thing. Still, I miss you. Uncle Henry would be angry with me for being so free with my feelings when he's working so hard to sever our ties, but as I said before, I can never be severed from you. The cut will run right through me._

 _Yours, Scarlett._

This was not something Rhett could fix by carrying a baby around Atlanta and making the appropriate jokes at his wife's expense. She always seemed so impregnable. Even when she flew off the handle she never really seemed hurt by the things he said. Rhett would have to show Scarlett that she could trust him to be her husband and business partner, that he could build as well as she could. They wouldn't let him see her, so he would do what he could for her by the time the doctors would let her come home.

Rhett spent a week going to the mill and then the gins. He sorted through the books and went back to each again. At his wishes, the gardeners laid out trees along the house's drive and at intervals around the house itself. There had been trees in the original plans years before, but they were sparse and lonely. He pictured the new magnolia and live oak and cypress trees ten years later and decided it was good. At the end of the second week, he gave Father Halloran another letter for Scarlett.

 _My darling wife,_

 _I don't know where my love is, but I'm starting to suspect it's not as gone as once was thought. I don't know why I ever suggested divorce; the idea of it makes me physically ill these days, and the idea of any woman instead of you is unthinkable. Charleston was a dream, but it's over. I thought it held all of the charms and dignity that I recalled from my childhood. Maybe it did before the war and maybe it still does for some people like my brother. For me it was dreadfully dull, and I missed having someone to whom I could whisper my true thoughts. Only you have ever been amused when I point out the foolishness of the world around us, and you seem to be lost to me for now. I'm beginning to realize that the world I wanted is the world that we have been building together._

 _I give a damn now, Scarlett. Perhaps it only started after my winter in Charleston, experiencing the season, which required almost nothing from me at all and gave me nothing in return. Yet it wasn't Charleston or anything about it that I give a damn about. I give a damn about you, Scarlett, and fear that all the fire and passion I have so admired about you has been leached out. I give a damn about our family. Wade is becoming an impressive young man, and I miss Ella and Jerry very much. I give a damn about our home. I've been making some small changes to the outside and hope that you will like them when you see them._

 _I've never shared a bed with Alice at any time of my life. Indeed, the only woman I've shared a bed with, since telling you I was leaving you, is you, my sweet. How is that for a joke upon me? You are the only woman who interests me enough to discover what is under her clothes and you have been for some time. I will admit that I tried, several times when I went to New Orleans and again in Europe, but the whole arrangement started to strike me as sad and I wished for you all the more. If you must know, you're the only woman in my life that I've ever spoken with while smoking that cigar, the only one who I've felt close enough to that I would share the thoughts I think at such intimate moments. I've always just left and smoked that cigar alone, otherwise._

 _I never really desired Alice, and even kissing her was not pleasant. She's never behaved as though she liked it, even though she was the one who first kissed me, and I found the whole experience rather boring. It was nothing like what goes through me every time I kiss you. I never actually told her anything about myself, and less about you. My family was too precious to share with her. When she asked a few questions initially, I told her what anyone in town might have told her and she never asked again._

 _I shouldn't mock and tease you the way I always have. It was all a way to hide my true feelings, that I'd loved you practically on sight. I know you were aware of the way I couldn't stop looking at you as you walked into Twelve Oaks that morning. I was wondering if the person inside of you matched the way your eyes snapped with such vitality. Hours later when I actually spoke with you, I was not disappointed. I couldn't let you see how attached I'd become so quickly, so I teased you to hide it. It became a habit after we became better acquainted in Atlanta. I couldn't possibly let you know how deeply you had touched my heart, and I tried every time to distance myself, knowing that your interest in Ashley Wilkes was between us. It was wrong of me to so constantly belittle you, especially if I loved you as much as I thought. A wiser man would have found another way._

 _I will tell you that all is as well at the cotton mill as you expected. The boys all tell me that they are pleased with their arrangements. I have spoken with local school board members and may be able to get them something of an education in the bargain. I will have to work more on that later. Your gins, as you sensed, were suffering from poor bookkeeping. Since the one at Rough and Ready had almost finished its work for the season by the time you left Atlanta, it had not gotten too bad. It was quickly sorted out. There are some more major issues to straighten out, as you expected, with Mr. Stafford. It appears the new machinery is being properly installed, but there were some sharp practices in dealing with the old machinery that I will have to settle. I'm not entirely sure we want him managing the facility if he's going to deal in such a way with your customers. Your reputation with the farmers will be too precious to squander. Hopefully you will be back in town by the time the gins need to start the harvest; otherwise I'll have to play the trole of heavy-handed husband._

 _How are the children? Is Jerry behaving himself? I imagine Ella is becoming ever more grown up and lady-like. I see Wade from time to time, but he's very angry with me. I suppose that's his due. He told me that he plans to protect you from me if need be once he's old enough to go to Harvard. I do not plan to let that need arise, but I agreed that it is his right and duty._

 _I told Henry and Sylvester in no uncertain terms that I will not sign any papers until you and I have met in person and in any case, I will not sign that settlement that gives you so little for all the trouble I've put you through. From speaking with Father Halloran, I suspect that it is not in your best interests to let them have too much control over you. From what they all say, I gather your health is somewhat fragile. I hope you've been seeing a doctor wherever you are and getting whatever care you need. If I must, I will wait until the fall to see you, but please don't let it be after that._

 _Be assured that I miss you and hope daily to hear that you are better. Affectionately, Rhett_

* * *

A/N: No one honestly thought there would be one letter and someone would wave a magic wand, I hope.

Thanks so much to all of the readers and reviewers, including **Melody-Rose-20, kanga85, Kinderby, samandfreddie, Romabeachgirl1981, gabyhyatt, Asline Nicole, abbygale94, Truckee Gal, Jguest, COCO B,** **Guest** , and **gumper.**

An additional thanks to abbygale94, who spotted a couple of errors in this chapter, which I have now fixed.


	28. Chapter 28

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creations of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Mid-June came. Wade went to join Scarlett wherever she was—almost certainly Tara—and Rhett went home for several days to attend his sister's wedding. He described his life in Atlanta to his mother, and Rosalyn wasn't as sympathetic as he'd hoped. "She's left you high and dry, and you're not allowed to find her or contact her unless you go through someone else? A bit of your own medicine there, isn't it?"

"That doesn't make it any better," he sighed. "I've got quite a few tasks to do, and the folks around town are allowing me to do a few small things for their charities while looking sideways at me. I'm sure she's at Tara, but they're telling me to stay away. Doctor Meade suggested that it could risk her life to see me."

"Has he said what's wrong with her?"

"Wade said they're trying to avoid a stroke, but that's all I've been able to ferret out."

Rosalyn pondered it, shook her head, and let it go. "Have you any idea what on earth was going through your mind all winter?"

He shook his head and then shrugged. "When I left her two and a half years ago, the idea was that I would try to make peace with my people. Suddenly with Alice I was accepted again."

"Where did that leave Scarlett in your mind?"

"She was a whole other part of my life."

"But she's _not_ , Rhett. You're married, you share business interests, you share a bed, she's given you children… And now you think you can just push her to the side to be part of Charleston? You can't just separate parts of your life like that."

"I know."

"Then how could you?"

"That I don't know. It was the allure of Charleston, peace with my people, dignity and grace of the time that was… If I could just _see_ her." He took a sip of his whisky and stared at it. It tasted stronger than usual, perhaps from being the first in weeks.

"I don't suppose that's the cause of it," Rosalyn pointed at his glass.

"I-" He made a face and shook his head.

"Do you want to see my liquor bill for the months you're here compared to when you're not, especially when Scarlett's not with you?"

"I don't think that's necessary," he growled. "Did Scarlett receive an invitation?" He needed to redirect this conversation.

"She's not coming to the wedding." Rhett felt his heart sink at that, although it was expected. "She says her doctor won't let her travel. Her health is too fragile."

He sighed, and his hands formed fists in his trouser pockets. "I was hoping I might see her here. I worry about her, but when they will speak to me they at least assure me it's not likely to be life threatening as long as I am not around. It would seem _I_ am the greatest danger to her."

"Perhaps she'll be back in Atlanta by the time you return. You're going to have trouble at the wedding, I fear. Thomas expects to give the bride away."

"That's his right as the brother who wasn't disowned." The whisky went down correctly this time. "I'll stay in the back and watch discreetly. I don't wish to cause trouble for Rosemary. This is her day."

"I don't understand why Thomas has to be such a stick in the mud. It's the only way he takes after your father… how he treats you. Otherwise he's the most genial man in town. Perhaps Scarlett's better off not coming. He's sure to make things tense."

"It's the pain of having such a brother as I am, I suppose," answered Rhett with a grimace. "We'll get through the wedding and then I'll go haunt Atlanta in the hope that Scarlett will be back soon."

The wedding ceremony itself was navigated with minimal trouble. Rhett, true to his word, stayed as far in the background as he could, kissing his sister afterward with genuine congratulations and affection, and shaking hands with Francis as well. Rhett watched the way Francis followed his bride with his eyes when he couldn't hold her hand or elbow, and he longed for his own wife. How Scarlett would love to dance at this wedding, and how much better they would look than any couple here. He had to blow his nose several times.

"I suppose you feel you have everything tied up nicely," said a voice in his ear.

"Thomas, I must congratulate you and Isabella on planning a lovely wedding for our sister."

"Perhaps it's I who should congratulate you. You seem to have planned everything until all I was needed for was to walk her down the aisle. Perhaps you were hoping to arrange your situation so that _you_ could walk her down the aisle."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, no? They all thought you'd finally come to your senses. Charleston was ready to forgive you, and then you could be head of the Butler family of Charleston. But you left again. Some people think you're just settling your affairs in Atlanta, but I have my doubts. My sources tell me there was a favorable divorce settlement that needed nothing but your signature."

"I have no intention of divorcing Scarlet, nor of signing any settlement she proposes."

"Of course not. You're too contrary to do anything sensible. Now it turns out that Butler's Point belongs to you because you've paid all the taxes on it since the war? That you encouraged Rosemary to make a fool of herself by running our plantation and running after men to seek assistance? That you gave permission to a nobody like Mr. Calhoun to court her? I know your wife is barely more respectable than that madam you keep, but do you realize how you've damaged Rosemary's reputation?"

Determination was on Rosalyn's face as she headed toward her sons, but she wasn't quick enough. Rhett grabbed his brother's tie and pulled him until their faces were inches apart. "You will not speak like that about my wife, brother dear, unless you want to go outside where I will thrash you like I have every time since you were born. There's nothing wrong with a woman running a plantation or marrying a man who's shown by the work of his hands that he's worthy of her and loves her."

Letting his brother go with a shove, Rhett walked toward the door. He heard Thomas mutter, "I knew you were going to go back to her." Rhett turned and glared at Thomas but decided to let it go.

"Rhett!" He stopped to let his mother catch up to him. "Rhett, how can you say you don't love your wife after saying something like that?"

He kissed her cheek. "You know that the situation with Scarlett is too complicated to be classified by such mundane words as love, Mother. I think it's time for me to go home. I'll pack up and head to the station now. Please give my best to the bride and groom."

"Of course, dear." She hugged him close and then patted his back as he left.

He sat on his train back to Atlanta and cursed himself as the biggest hypocrite yet. Who was he to speak about worthy husbands when he was the worst of the lot?

De _ar Rhett,_

 _Thank you for sorting out the problems with the gins. I'm sorely grieved by Mr. Stafford's actions, and I agree that if your friend at the bank would be so kind as to help us find a replacement, it would appear we need to do so. I also appreciate the work you've gone to with the boys in Marietta. I know there's some sort of donation involved in helping their education. I hope they appreciate it._

 _Thank you for the description of Rosemary's wedding. It sounds quite beautiful. I would have loved to be there, but the doctor will only let me stay in this one spot for the time being. Thank you also for defending my honor. Both your sister and your mother have written me about the way you spoke to your brother. I'm so grateful, for if you can speak that way to your own family, perhaps you do care for me after all._

 _I appreciate what you said about the teasing and mocking. I'm not sure why it always hurts so much. After all, you tease and mock almost everyone in the world, why not me as well? And what you say is usually true, so I really don't have a reason to complain._

 _Are you sure you wouldn't rather be with your Alice? It sounds as though she's everything you really wanted. She knows things. Whenever Charles and I were with Ashley and Melly, right between that barbecue and when the boys had to leave, the other three would talk about so many things I didn't know, especially about books they had read. It seemed as though Ashley would look at me and then give Charles a look of pity. He actually felt sorry for Charles for having to be with me. To be fair to Charles, he was so glad to have me that he would just look down with such a happy smile and squeeze my hand. I was in such a blur of confusion that I must have looked like a doe-eyed bride. I know I snapped at him once or twice, but I don't think I truly ever spoke an unkind word to him. I've learned to be grateful for that. Wade is so sensitive to such things. I don't know why I'm thinking of it except that it's late at night and I can't seem to sleep and Charlie died on a June night much like this one._

 _I must admit I'm kept up at night lately by your biggest Christmas gift to me and what came of it. The memory of your mustache tracing the necklace keeps me longing for you. My dreams are filled with your kisses and how you make me feel when we're alone together. It's as though I wasn't in my body any more, and yet I can feel every bit of my body at once. If you were here, I'd be terribly weak, Rhett. I'm sure you've known for a long time that all you ever needed to do was kiss me._

 _Love, Scarlett._

The woman was determined to torture him. Rhett read the letter, smelled Scarlett between the pages and inside the envelope. He wasn't entirely discontented.

He had found builders and designers who were willing to take on the outside of the house. After removing the veranda and those horrible staircases and replacing it with a wrap-around porch, it might not be stylistically cohesive, but might just have a charm of its own. The architects talked him into keeping a balcony attached to the main bedroom, and in the drawings at least, Rhett thought it was interesting. Father Halloran came to visit a few evenings a week, in what was no doubt a continuation of habit developed with Scarlett, and chuckled over the changes.

"You're building, Captain Butler. It's not that hard once you get started, is it?"

* * *

"I want to see my son on his birthday," Rhett told the priest during the last week in June. "Is there any way I can go out there?"

Father Halloran smiled. "Scarlett's made arrangements. You're to go to Tara for the day. Young Jerry has been asking for you."

"Will I see my wife?"

"No. She will be somewhere else for the day."

Pain went through Rhett as he realized this was what he had set in motion. He'd been the one to suggest a divorce in the first place, he'd been the one to disappear and miss important events. He'd been so much of the reason that it seemed a reasonable course of action to divide up the family celebrations. Now it looked like he might face a lifetime of being pushed to the side when the children had an important event or being the person who pushed Scarlett to the side.

Ella was as happy to see him as Jerry. "Uncle Rhett! We've missed you so much."

He hugged her tightly, breathing in the traces of her mother and missing Scarlett so much he almost gasped in pain. "I've missed you too, sweetheart. How have you been?"

"Mother was very sick, but she's been feeling better. Tara has been so nice this year. I think it's been helping her."

"Will you be ready to come home, soon?"

"Mother says probably after school starts, but we're doing lessons together. I love doing them with Mother. She says she may as well, since she's not allowed to do anything useful."

"They're keeping her away from the farm, then? She must hate that."

Ella's voice lowered to a whisper. "She loses her temper a lot, but she doesn't yell quite the same way, and usually she laughs when it's done."

Jerry told him a long story in words that didn't quite make sense, and the three settled in for a tea party on the back porch.

Rhett gave his gifts to Jerry for his birthday, and also gifts he'd picked up for Wade and Ella as well. Wade was looking after his mother for the day, so Ella promised to give it to him.

Afterward, Rhett went out and sat on the front porch, holding a dozing Gerald in his arms and chatting with Suellen and Will. "Is she getting better?" he asked.

Will nodded. "I do believe she is. Just like anything it will have to run its course."

Sue jostled her new baby, a little boy named for his father. "She'll be ready to go home in time. There are days when I swear I'll drive her to Atlanta myself."

"I take it she's become more like herself, then."

Will Benteen smiled even as his wife scowled. "Scarlett O'Hara may be down for a while, but she'll never be licked."

Rhett smiled and kissed the little head near his chest. Maybe there was hope.

Just before he left, he penned a quick note.

 _My Darling Wife,_

 _How kind of you to think that I would want to visit our son on his birthday. You might have held him from me with little practical recourse on my part, but instead you have chosen to grant me this. The only thing more I could wish is yourself present, but I will accept your word that it's not the right time, yet._

 _Gerald is as delightful a child as he could possibly be, and I love him dearly. Thank you, my love, for the gift of my son. Thank you for having the faith that we could have this child even with the troubles between us. Thank you for loving him so well. I once belittled your mothering instincts. I see that you've always been a much better mother than I gave you credit for. All three of your children are testament to that fact. I must have been blinded by my own wishes to mold you to my own pattern._

 _I've been assured by Ella and your sister that you have been becoming more like yourself lately. Nothing I have heard in a long time could please me more. Even in the times I have thought I hated you, I still wanted you to be just as you are, spirited, full of fire, and ready to fight whatever foe is standing before you, even your own husband. I've always been proud of your fighting spirit. It's one of the things I love most about you._

 _Your mention of the necklace I gave you for Christmas reminded me of a gift I picked up for your birthday. Those few mornings make up the last perfect memory I have, my love, when the greatest gift you gave me was yourself. I wasn't ready to offer so much of myself, yet, but I want to try now._

 _Please care for yourself, my love so we can be together again soon. After being so close to you today, I know I will be all the more impatient to see you again. Affectionately, Rhett_

He went upstairs and into Scarlett's bedroom, looking around it and realizing every memory he had of that room was a good one except for one small spat. There was her vanity, clean except for the dish that held her hairpins. There was the chair he sat in when he'd held his son and spoke to her about their plans. There was the bed where they'd lain together, where he'd seen his son born.

He reached under his vest and pulled a shirt stud out of his shirt and set it in the dish. He could go without for a few hours. Then he laid the letter and box on the vanity. He wanted more than anything to hold her in his arms, to convince himself that she was still real, but standing in this room where her presence spoke to him so clearly was the best he could do. Finally, he laid the nightshirt he'd just worn last night on top of her pillow, and found his most recent one underneath it. It smelled of her, so he put it in his valise to take home. The one thing he'd hoped to find, the saucer, was not in the room. Surely it was somewhere.

 _Dear Rhett,_

 _The bracelet is beautiful. I'm glad you remember that morning as happily as I do. Two days later when I got on the train, I thought we were closer to being in love than we'd ever been. I'm relieved to learn that it was a precious moment for you too. I wondered._

 _Ella and Jerry have been speaking about you non-stop since you left. I'm almost ready to box their ears, but I like to hear about Uncle Rhett and Papa. When I first got to my bedroom tonight I smelled your presence and looked around, almost hoping to see you. Instead I found the nightshirt you left me and the gift box. When I took down my hair I saw your shirt stud in with my hairpins. I miss these things about you. Call me a fool if you must._

 _There was a time when you would have called me a fool, and told me that there was no point to my love. I can still hear just how cold you sounded the day you told me our marriage is over. I thought of little else even when bargaining for the mill, that there had been so much we never even tried to do or be to each other, and how you wouldn't even let us try. You were so cold and you brushed me off when I pointed it out the night before the panic. _

_I think I should have realized then that what we had was more like the liaison you wanted that night you found me alone at Pitty's house. You wanted, and had, my body. I've come to know you wanted to possess more than that too, but I was too foolish to understand it. I thought I needed to preserve how I looked and the rest of my youth. I fear that's going to be gone for good when you see me again. I shall forever after this be maybe "still young," to those who are kind, and "past the bloom" to the others. If those are the things you wanted me for, perhaps an affair would have been the better option._

 _This isn't a very good thank you note, is it? Mother would be horrified, but she would sigh and say, "Well enough, Scarlett, just sign your name and be done with it."_

 _Yours, Scarlett._

* * *

A/N: I'm not big into song fics, but I realized part way through Scarlett's letter at the bottom of here that I was all but quoting the old standard "These Foolish Things." For those headed to youtube now, I'm fond of Aaron Neville's cover, but Ella's is honestly more classic. Of course, Nat King Cole's version of anything is always a treat.

You've all been so lovely. Thanks to the readers and reviewers, including **TheFauxGinge, COCO B, gabyhyatt, , abbygale94, solo1861, Romabeachgirl1981, breakfastattiffanygs, Love, Melody-Rose-20, Phantom710, Asline Nicole, kanga85,** **Truckee Gal,** and **WhitmanFrostFiend**


	29. Chapter 29

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rhett wanted to laugh and cry at the same time Scarlett's letter came in the regular post. He'd have to find a way to show her that he wanted her for a wife and never as anything less than a life companion. Even during the war when he propositioned her to be his mistress, he knew he could never let her go even if she became old. He would glory in her age as the proof that they had grown older together. He wrote a return letter also by post, and for the remainder of July and through August they wrote at least once a week.

 _My Lovely Wife,_

 _I miss you more all the time. I hope that you don't mind that I've been sleeping in your room, the room we shared when we were first married and that we've shared when we've both been home in recent years. I feel closer to you there, and it's easier to dream of the exact glow of your skin in the lamplight as I trace your shoulder. I don't believe that it can have changed very much. I've always liked your looks, of course, but it's your spirit that attracted me. That's what sets you apart from other beautiful women. I like the way you scold so readily whenever I annoy you and I like the way you work so diligently at whatever task you take on, even the ones you hate._

 _Are you going to be better soon? Is your illness improving? I feel as though I should come visit you. Surely we've reached a point where we could better discuss our situation if we were face-to-face. I fear as well that your health will reach some crisis and I won't be there to tell you all the things that can only be said when looking into your eyes…_

Wade came back to prepare for the school year. A truce formed between him and Rhett, especially in the light of day when Wade saw what was being done to the house. "It seems strange to look at it now," he said. He chose to stay at the Peachtree Street house. He said it was due in part to his mother's wish that Rhett have company. Rhett secretly thought the boy was keeping an eye on him.

"It's gone from being a monstrosity to eccentric, but I think it's good," replied Rhett.

"The trees and the porch are great, Uncle Rhett. It just seems a bit odd to look at it after living in it the other way for so long."

"Don't you think we needed something different? You mother was so proud of it, though… it seemed better to keep what we couldn't change for one reason or another and do what we could to make it beautiful." Similar to the teacup on the study bookshelf.

"I think she will like it," answered Wade.

"How is your mother?" asked Rhett.

"The doctor comes every few days," said Wade.

"Is it that serious? They told me she was better."

"He doesn't act as though it's serious. He's says he's being extra cautious."

A new thought came to his mind, making Rhett glower. "Is Doctor Owen one of Henry's new suitors?"

"Mother would send him packing if he was. She's still pining for you, although she hides it." The boy was clearly unhappy about that, but it was a relief.

"You won't tell me what her illness is? Everyone talks around it."

The boy rolled his eyes. "You don't deserve to know."

Rhett let it go. It was undoubtedly insolence, but it was also partially true.

 _Dear Rhett,_

 _Please don't come for me. I fear for everything if we should see each other now. Please just wait a little longer. I know I've been argumentative and fussy in my letters, but I'm just so tired, and it's been such a long time at Tara without actually seeing how my businesses are going. The doctor assures me that this thing is running its course and I shall be ready to see you again by the end of September at the very latest. He also says that since we've started exchanging these letters, my condition has truly improved greatly._

 _I assure you that my feelings are unchanged. I long for you all the more, and the memories of our last moments together are all that get me through. Do you remember how you kissed me the last morning when you woke me? I thought I would melt in your arms, and afterward, I thought we would miss the train…_

* * *

It was just a few days into September when a knocking on the front door early in the morning woke Rhett. Father Halloran was at the door. "We need to go on the first train to Jonesboro," he said. He handed Rhett a telegram from Will Benteen. "All done. Scarlett fine. You're needed. Bring Rhett."

Rhett looked up, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Should we bring Wade?"

"Of course I'm coming," said the boy from behind him.

Rhett ran upstairs to throw some things together. If he had his way, he would be staying at Tara until he could bring Scarlett back with him.

The train ride to Jonesboro never seemed to take so long. Rhett didn't know how to look at Wade, and Father Halloran read his daily office out of a weather-beaten breviary. "Is there anything I should know?" asked Rhett.

Wade sighed and looked out the window. Father Halloran just said, "Scarlett wants to explain everything to you her own dear self. She's worried that you won't understand some of the things that have happened… her doctors insisted on most of the secrets to protect her. Just listen to her."

"What's the crisis that requires a priest?"

The priest sighed sadly. "I'm afraid to speculate about that, Rhett. We know Scarlett is safe, and they didn't come for me on horseback. She wants you with her. Hold on to that."

At last they arrived and hired horses to go to Tara. Will met them at the porch of the house. "Scarlett wanted to tell you everything herself, but the doctor thinks it's better if he talks to you first. He's in the office, if you would go in there, Rhett. Father Halloran, you should go with him. Wade, if you'll come with me, your mother wants to see you."

Rhett and Father Halloran went down the hallway to the office and found the doctor sitting at the desk, leaning back in the chair with his hand over his face in exhaustion.

Father Halloran cleared his throat. "Doctor Owen?"

The doctor shook his head to alertness and stood up. "You're here. Captain Butler, I could wish for different circumstances. Father Halloran, it's good to see you, as always." He shook hands with both men.

Rhett, unable to control his fear, said, "Is Scarlett—" He couldn't say the last word.

"Oh, no! Didn't the telegram say she's safe? That's still the case, and she continues to improve, although there was a bad half hour last night. Let me start at the beginning, if you'll both sit down."

They did, and the doctor looked at Rhett, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He looked helplessly at the priest, who gently said, "Perhaps if you'll tell us the last bit first, Doctor. I admit to a raging curiosity."

"There's no way to start the conversation," shrugged the doctor. He cleared his throat and said, "Captain Butler, your wife delivered a baby girl last night."

At last, the pieces fit. Rhett tried to assimilate this news. A daughter. Scarlett must have conceived at Christmas. He closed his eyes and remembered those moments when she had been so tender with him, and he had almost told her he loved her. Under what cursed star did he set that aside all winter? Why did it never occur to him, other than a passing thought in a tea shop? How self absorbed had he been this year that the facts of his wife's condition had never occurred to him?

"And they're both safe? Healthy?" He heard himself ask the most vital of questions and wondered at how calm he sounded. How could that be?

The doctor looked at the priest again, who understood some hidden signal and took up the tale. "When you told her you wouldn't be home in February, she didn't know, yet. She had the party as planned, but she herself went over to the Hamilton House so that everyone else could talk about her without her having to hear them.

"Not everyone was at the party. It would seem India Wilkes was at home, nursing a headache with a pot of tea. She shared it with your wife, along with some of the poison she harbors. She was quite conciliatory, and told Scarlett that it would be better with you out of the picture, that Atlanta would forgive everything now. A new husband would be found for her, and she could settle back into the bosom of her loving friends, who had gone through a period of anger, to be sure, but who would forgive her. Henry was already starting to make arrangements, both to end your marriage and get Scarlett settled in a new one. She couldn't be allowed to stay in a divorced, even an annulled state for very long, you see."

"What does this have to do with—"

"As you will know, Scarlett could only handle so much of such conversation. She slapped India and ran out of the house without even getting her coat. India followed her to the house and watched her go in through the back. She found Doctor Meade and me, and we found her in the study. Scarlett had already broken everything on the one shelf, and had the saucer in her hand."

"I wondered where it was. I had hoped…" Rhett knew a moment of loss. The cup was in the bag at his feet.

"It's in two pieces in one of the sections of that desk."

Rhett stood up to look and found the pieces of the saucer, in a secretary nook with his letters and a set of rosary beads he recognized as her mother's. It was close enough to what he had been hoping about the saucer that he could sigh with relief. He sat back down. "Go on," he whispered.

"Doctor Meade and I got her upstairs and somewhat sedated, and during an examination the good doctor discovered she was pregnant."

"How did she take it?" Rhett had no idea what to expect, given the circumstances.

"She was delighted. She'd been so sad last fall of course, and this seemed like a new chance. Then she was crushed. She didn't think you could possibly be happy about it with the plans you seemed to be making. After Doctor Meade scolded her, she was worried that she would lose the baby, and she wanted it so very badly, especially if it was the last thing she would have of you."

"I should have been there." Rhett didn't realize he was weeping. "I should have been at home all along." The doctor opened several drawers of the desk. Finally, he found what he was looking for and placed a piece of fabric in Rhett's hand to wipe his eyes. It was a handkerchief with the initials KSO'H embroidered on it. For some reason he gave half a laugh and then a sob. "She's always using mine because she never seems to have one, and this one is hers." He looked up at Father Halloran in a wave of anger. "You never told me, or hinted… I trusted you."

"It wasn't my story to tell at that time, and both of her doctors wanted to keep her as calm as possible."

"Captain Butler," said Doctor Owen, "please don't blame Father Halloran, here. Doctor Meade wrote to me all through March, warning that she would be sent to Tara and that he feared she was prone to a toxic condition. He felt, and as I understood the situation, I did too, that there was too much risk to Scarlett in bringing you in. It was not my intent to shield you from it forever, just until the greatest danger to Scarlett was past. We know that, legally, we were obligated to tell you as soon as possible. We feel we have, that it would not have been in anyone's best interests to tell you before now."

Given Rhett's and Scarlett's lengthy history, the doctors might have been right. There was something else in what was said, though. "Greatest danger? Is there still a risk?"

Doctor Owen cleared his throat. "After she arrived at Tara, I examined her on the first of April and agreed with Doctor Meade's assessments. At the time I feared we would never arrive safely in September. Then in late April, Father Halloran arrived with the first of your letters, and she improved greatly. We looked very carefully at what she ate and at her level of activity, and she continued to improve. The only trouble I could foresee was the actual delivery of the child.

"This thing they call blood pressure is very high as near as I can tell. They have ways to measure it in the big clinics, but of course I have no access to such equipment in a country practice. I have to gauge by how she looks and acts. Her color has been bad while she was clearly retaining water, and she was obviously feeling strained all through this pregnancy. It improved greatly after your letters started coming, but last night it got bad again. There was, as I said, a terrible half hour, when I feared I might lose Scarlett and have to cut the baby out, but suddenly she was herself again, more relaxed than I'd seen her since April. Your daughter was quickly delivered at that point. There is still the possibility that some unseen injury has happened that could hurt your wife, but I don't believe that's the case. Every indication I can see suggests that her blood pressure is returning to normal."

"I nearly lost my wife last night, and no one saw fit…" Rhett regained some level of control over himself. He fumbled with the handkerchief. "And the child?" He saw the look between priest and doctor again and realized why the priest had been summoned. "Is it that bad?"

"The child is alive but I have concerns. It's hard to tell when they're first born, but she seemed a bit frail, especially when compared to her brother, who's such a sturdy lad."

Rhett smiled. "He is, at that."

"She had bad color when first born. She didn't cry or react as healthy babies usually do. All of that improved, especially after her mother fed her, but she's still not quite like a normal newborn. I listened to her heart and there's a murmur. It may be nothing, but it may be that it didn't form properly."

Rhett looked up. "Is there anything we could have done differently?"

"No, it seems to run in families. Having discovered this, if I had to guess, I would suspect that Scarlett's three brothers may have suffered from it. Assuming that's even what it is."

"What do we do then? For either of them?"

"You cherish them, Captain Butler. You love them both. I will check on the child after I check her mother this morning and see if I still hear the murmur. Sometimes they go away. If it's no worse, then we will see how she is in a week. Then a month. If she's still the same or better by then, I think you may take her home to Atlanta. Over time it may fade and she will be perfectly normal. If it doesn't, there may be doctors at the universities that can help in ways I simply cannot."

"I didn't even know she existed this time yesterday," he said in a low voice. "I haven't even met her yet. I know I will do everything I can for her, now."

The doctor put a soothing hand on his shoulder. "I'm so very sorry that it might be the case, but you seem the sort of man who wants to know these things. We've gotten your wife and daughter past the first night, so that's good, and as I said, we'll have to see how they are today, and again in a week."

"As long as we can make some sort of plan, as long as there is something that might be done…"

"Unfortunately, most of our plan is to wait and see, and appreciate the blessings your wife and daughter bring to us right now. I imagine Doctor Meade in Atlanta will say much the same."

"Yes," said Rhett absently, even as he resolved that Doctor Meade would never treat any of his family again.

 _A/N: So much for big reveals. I gather some of you noticed it at chapter 24, while others picked it up along the way. Some of you may have noticed early and not mentioned it for various reasons. I actually have enjoyed the way everyone has walked through it._

 _I am so sorry that I overstated the problem with Scarlett mourning her lost looks. She was seven months pregnant when she wrote that letter, tired of being away from Rhett and her businesses, tired of being cooped up, and tired of being pregnant, and her mirror reminded her she wasn't 16 any more. That's all._

 _Thank you so much to the lovely readers and reviewers, including **WhitmanFrostFiend, , Melody-Rose-20, COCO B, Laina Lee, breakfastattiffanygs, Asline Nicole, Romabeachgirl1981, Kinderby, Aunt pitty, abbygale94, Guest,** **Truckee Gal,** and **gabyhyatt**_


	30. Chapter 30

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

They brought Rhett to the parlor and shut the door behind him. Scarlett was sitting on a couch, feeding the baby.

"Scarlett?"

"Rhett."

His eyes devoured her. She was pale and obviously exhausted. She'd never looked more beautiful to him. She was clearly older than she'd once been, but she'd lost nothing. The fire in her eyes glowed as brightly as ever.

"Please don't get angry and leave," she whispered. "I had no idea how to tell you and the doctors had so many rules."

He'd been filled with such anger when it was Jerry. He'd doubted her, and he'd resented the implication that Bonnie could be replaced. Was he angry that she hadn't told him this time? Did he have the right, when he'd given her so many reasons to doubt him?

"I'm not going anywhere." Rhett laid his hat and coat aside. He placed his hand along the side of his wife's face and breathed her in as he kissed her hair. "My love, I missed you so very much." He moved a chair close to the couch to sit by them. "Whom have we here?"

"I wanted to name her Rose for your mother and sister, but I understand your sister may want to use that name herself, soon."

This wasn't something he'd heard about, but it shouldn't surprise anyone. "You know more than I, then."

"I suppose it's the sort of thing sisters-in-law might tell each other before brothers," Scarlett said. "She sent a letter here, asking me about early signs. I also wanted to name her for Melanie."

"An excellent choice."

"Mammy loved and respected Melanie. She also loved mother, but I already have Ella."

"What about Scarlett? Mammy loved you too, perhaps best of all."

"I'm not ready to be anyone's example, yet. What do you think of Melanie Rose?"

Her heart was in her eyes, begging him to understand, to accept. He wanted to crush her close to him, to tell her that _she_ was the one with the most to understand, and that nothing was worse than all these months of waiting and longing had been.

"I can't think of a better one. Scarlett, why didn't you tell me? I would have come home."

Her lip trembled. "By the time I even suspected, I'd already heard about your affair." He stiffened at that word, but she looked numb as she told the story. "I couldn't— _wouldn't_ —try to keep you with me for a child, not when you had everything you told me you wanted within your grasp. By the time I was sure you didn't want a divorce, it seemed too late. I didn't want to get your hopes up again after last fall, and decided I wouldn't tell you until it was over. I was so worried you'd be angry with me. And then the doctors, Doctor Meade and Doctor Owen both, said I wasn't strong enough to have it out with you. They told me I might lose the baby or even hurt myself."

"I haven't the right to be angry with you." He slid to kneel on the floor, placing his head near, but not in, her lap. "Scarlett, I can't begin to apologize."

Her free hand ran through his hair. "Rhett, I can't have this conversation yet. Doctor Owen says I still need to avoid things that might upset me for a few more days. Do you mind waiting?"

He looked up and smiled. "Until tomorrow?"

"Maybe a few tomorrows." There was almost a dimple in her cheek.

"Anything, my love."

The child pulled back and fussed, and Scarlett moved her to the other breast. "Doctor Meade was very angry after they found me at the train station and told me I had to leave Atlanta. They wanted me to stay away from anything that made me think of you, so I made all the arrangements to leave things behind and come here. Unfortunately, that meant putting all of those men in charge of my affairs. Now Uncle Henry and Sylvester know far too much about my finances and think they can get a judge to divorce me from you, and Doctor Meade thinks he can prove I'm mentally unstable. I've been seeing Doctor Owen since I got here, Rhett. He says that outside of the pregnancy and all that goes with it, I'm fit as a fiddle, in body and mind. Whatever we decide, it needs to be after Doctor Owen says I'm able to properly discuss it. I'm not going to decide anything when I have to worry about whether it's too much strain."

"Fair enough."

The baby finished eating and looked toward Rhett. He was speechless for a moment. The child was enchanting. Eyes more green than blue, with a softer chin than Bonnie or Gerald. No one would deny this was Scarlett's child, but she looked somewhat like Rosemary. She looked so trustingly at him, in a way that brought Melanie Wilkes to mind. His heart melted. Bonnie had belonged wholly to him. He'd believed that firmly and had never stopped, despite any possible evidence to the contrary. Yet this child seemed to _give_ herself to him, making him love her in ways he didn't know were possible this morning on the train.

"The last time I felt something like this was the moment I first saw you," he murmured. "She's perfection."

Scarlett's face twisted into agony. "Doctor Owen says she may not survive for very long. He says her heart might not be strong enough."

"He told me everything." Realization hit in a new way. Rhett looked at the face he'd fallen in love with just a moment ago and felt a knife go through him. "Oh my love, and you were left to face this on your own?"

"I would face it by myself still to protect you from the pain of it."

"Because I handle such things so poorly." Rhett lifted his wife in his arms and sat on the couch, with her in his lap. "No, Scarlett, we need to face these things together and comfort each other if need be. You've been so strong and brave, my dear, and I need you to teach me how."

She settled into him, "I'm so glad you're here. I feel so much better now."

He had contented himself with kissing her head, but now tipped her head up enough to kiss her lips.

After a little while there was a tap on the door. "Scarlett?" Suellen stood awkwardly within the door frame. "Father Halloran says we can do the Baptism whenever you're ready. Do you need any help with anything?"

Quite a party assembled for Melanie Butler's christening. Doctor Owen had brought Beatrice Tarleton and one of her girls—Hetty, if he understood from the flow of conversation—when he attended Melanie's birth the evening before. They likewise joined him now. Will and Suellen were present with their children, as well as Wade, Ella, and Gerald, who marched up to his father and shouted, "Pa!" Rhett obediently picked him up as he leaned over to get a kiss from Ella.

"It's a fine strain you have here," said Beatrice Tarleton to him, for whom breeding horses and people were the only two subjects worth pursuing. "Scarlett did well by the Hamilton and Kennedy lines to be sure, and your two are most promising."

Hetty stopped to press her lips to Melanie's forehead. "She's a dear thing, and so alert, as if she wants to see everything at once, while—well, she's a very alert child."

Rhett realized she'd been about to say, "while she can" and winced. Everyone present knew why this Baptism was being rushed, and Rhett looked at his wife, who was smiling bravely. He resolved that he would make the doctor tell him every possible thing that could be done. If it meant doctors in Philadelphia or Boston, he would make it happen.

Ellen O'Hara's battered silver punch bowl, dug up from wherever it had been hidden from the Yankees and kept in state as a small victory since the war, was placed on an end table to serve as a font. Rhett saw that Father Halloran was in surplice and stole and that the house servants and farm workers had also gathered. He leaned over to offer his wife his support.

"I'll be fine with Wade to help me," she said, looking at her eldest son fondly. "You'll need to hold the baby."

With a little rearrangement, Gerald was passed to his older sister and brother and Rhett took the baby. As a family they stood before Father Halloran, who said, "We'll do the parts we need to do together in English. Now, Rhett and Scarlett, what do you ask of God's Church…"

An hour later, the small party that had formed was winding down. A toast had been drunk to Melanie Rose Butler, and a cake eaten. Those with work to do had gone to the kitchen or left the house, and Scarlett was starting to look pale. Doctor Owen looked at his patient and said, "Captain Butler, if you could bring your wife back upstairs, Beatrice and Hetty will help her get back to bed and I can examine her and the baby."

Rhett picked Scarlett up and she grabbed at his shirt sleeves. "Too quickly, my pet?" he asked.

"I'm just a little dizzy, I guess," she replied. "It's so much."

"Too much to ask of you after the day you had yesterday."

"What sort of day did you have yesterday?" she asked. "I wondered, right when the pains were their worst, what you were doing and what I was going to take you away from when I finally got around to telling you what I was doing."

"Truth be told, I was at the store yesterday, going over your books there."

"I doubt Hugh enjoyed that."

"He's done well enough and I don't think he's lost you very much money."

"He's gotten better, or perhaps I've gone easier on him."

"Or something in between. At any rate, I discovered several names on your arrears list who should never have been allowed to go quite so far."

"Really?"

"There are quite a few gentlemen, using the term loosely, who were letting their wives get into your debt while buying a round at the Girl of the Period Saloon quite regularly. I went down there last night and took the opportunity bring their accounts up to date."

"Oh, dear. I've been trying not to be combative."

"These men were taking egregious advantage of you, my love, and while you were in a fragile state at the same time. They should have been horse whipped. Ella's college fund deserves that money more than the boys at the saloon do."

"You don't think anyone will mind, or be upset that I'm taking advantage of people I shouldn't?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was in Doctor Meade's file against you that you let it get so far. They were clearly taking advantage of you. But here we are, my pet. I'll come back up when the doctor says I may."

Rhett set Scarlett on her bed. He slipped out and closed the door as Hetty started fluttering around his wife. He went down stairs to find Father Halloran, Beatrice and Doctor Owen in the parlor with the baby. Beatrice stood up and handed her over to Rhett. "I believe I'll run up to help with Scarlett."

Father Halloran was shaking Doctor Owen's hand. He turned to shake Rhett's. "I'll be off then, to visit a few souls in the county whom I promised to look in on the next time I was out this way, and to catch the evening train. Rhett, I hope you'll stop by the next time you're in town."

Doctor Owen didn't have anything to add to what had been said earlier. He sat down in a high-backed chair and allowed himself a quick nap.

And so Rhett had several uninterrupted minutes with his brand new daughter, to look at her and marvel that he'd been granted a new chance to love. They sat in a chair with a view out the window, and he couldn't have said what was in that view. Melanie gazed at him with such a simple, trusting look, that he found himself silently promising her everything he could: the prettiest dresses, the most lavish parties, the best presents, the best doctors. "Most of all," he whispered, holding her small face to his so he could kiss her forehead, "I promise to love your mother with all my heart."

When they finally went upstairs, Rhett took a chair near the window and kept his eyes away from the bed as the doctor looked over Scarlett. "There was significant bleeding," said Hetty, pointing to a basin in a corner.

"I see that," said the doctor, "but it's probably due to getting out of bed too early and standing up for so long. I see no reason to worry." After a few more minutes, he washed his hands. "All right Scarlett, you may get comfortable, now. Your color is good and your wrists and ankles aren't as swollen as they were yesterday… As far as I can tell, you're a little weak, as one might expect from what you've been through in the last two days and from being out of bed much more than you ought, but you've always been generally fit as a fiddle and likely to be fine soon. Now let's look at our other patient."

Rhett brought Melanie over, and watched as the doctor unwrapped her and examined her. "She's as well as she was earlier today, not a bit of blue under her skin." He listened to her with the stethoscope for several long minutes. "That whoosh is still there. Go ahead and wrap her up, Beatrice."

"How is she?" asked Scarlett. Rhett hadn't realized it, but he was standing by where she was sitting on the bed. She was leaning against him and his arm was around her.

The doctor shrugged. "As far as I can tell, she's fine, certainly well enough. If you see her getting blue around her lips or under her nails or she seems to have trouble breathing, send for me. Other than that, feed her, change her, bathe her, and do all the things you did for your other children."

"We will."

"We'll see you in a week, then."

Beatrice and Hetty cleared up the room and went out the door with the doctor.

The baby started fussing, and Scarlett rearranged herself on the bed. "She wants a feeding, I'm sure." Rhett handed his wife the baby and then went over to the vanity where he placed his vest. He kicked his shoes off and then went back over to the bed and got on it with his wife and daughter.

"Are you really all right?" he asked.

"Sore everywhere," she replied, "but relieved it's all over, relieved you didn't turn around and leave as soon as you saw me, relieved she's still with us and no worse. I'm so very happy for right now, even with all the other things going on in our lives. You can't imagine. What about you? Is this too much to find out all at once? Are you angry with me for hiding this from you?"

"My love, I don't even have words. For the first time since I came to my senses in Charleston, I don't believe that you're going to follow Henry's advice after all. To find this enchanting creature here with you on top of that…I've never had so many riches."

This was as close as they would get today to discussing what stood between them.

"Am I?" She looked up at him. "Your love?"

He had no answer other than to carefully put his arm around her and kiss her forehead.

 _A/N: I know that most of us would have liked to see Scarlet b*-slap her cheating, lying, clueless husband, but she just had a baby twelve hours ago, and Dr. Owen says she needs to avoid confrontations for a while yet._

 _A little bit of a housekeeping note: I may not be able to post at my usual time due to some family scheduling issues. Please don't fear or worry; the story is well under control and more is coming, but I just may need to be away from my laptop at the usual time, so the next chapter might post later than the recent schedule._

 _My hit counts are through the roof and the reviews are a true delight._ _Thank you to the readers and reviewers, including_ **Phantom710, WhitmanFrostFiend, abbygale94, Leafhuntress, kanga85, breakfastattiffanygs, Youglea Sandrome, COCO B, Asline Nicole, Melody-Rose-20, Romabeachgirl1981, Truckee Gal** and **gabyhyatt**


	31. Chapter 31

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

 _It turns out I didn't need to be away from my computer at the witching hour after all, so here we are._

Rhett stayed the next full day at Tara, but the following morning, he and Wade returned to Atlanta. Wade was returning for school, but Rhett would go back to Tara. There were errands to run, and they started at Uncle Henry's office.

"Have you the latest divorce papers we brought you last week?" asked Henry.

"I confess I haven't even looked at them. Let's stop fooling ourselves. I don't plan to agree to any possible settlement you could come up with."

"We've hardly asked for anything out of your holdings."

"You know they don't matter a tinker's dam when compared to her," Rhett replied quietly.

"You have a funny way of showing it," answered Henry.

"What could you possibly know about marriage?" Rhett asked. He couldn't help a little sneer.

"Perhaps not much," was the answer, "but I do know that it's not helped when the party of the first part spends all of his time away from the party of the second part."

"You may be right," Rhett admitted, "but you don't know what it's like to be married to _her_."

"She might say the same about _you_ ," countered the lawyer. "Whatever are you here for, anyway?"

"I want the file," answered Rhett. "I want that thick file you have about me."

"Why should I give it to you?"

"I want Scarlett to read every word on every clipping and letter you have in there."

"You wouldn't have a gently-bred lady look at all of that!"

Rhett raised an eyebrow.

"Wade Hampton, do you really want your mother to read all the horrible details of your step-father's life?"

Wade looked seriously at the older man. "Uncle Henry, I believe it's Mother's right to decide whether she wants to know these things or not. I also believe it's her right to know what sort of man she married." He looked at Rhett, and Rhett knew it would be a long time yet before Wade fully forgave him.

Henry conceded the point, and Rhett was able to leave the law office with the file in his satchel.

The next stop on Rhett's and Wade's itinerary was Doctor Meade's office. "Have you come from Tara?" asked the doctor.

"She's come through her labor and is getting healthier. Our daughter may be less so."

"I received a letter from Doctor Owen this morning. I look forward to examining little Melanie myself."

"I had thought perhaps young Doctor Dean. He's more recently out of university and may know better how she can be helped."

Doctor Meade pondered the question and had to agree. "Perhaps. I'm at a loss concerning your visit, then. Is Wade Hampton ill?"

"I'm fine, Doctor Meade. I'm just running errands with Uncle Rhett."

Rhett saw no reason to beat around the bush. "I am here for the file you've been compiling about Scarlett."

"I have no such—"

"It's well known that you've been gathering information, hoping to have her committed."

"Do you really have such a file, Doctor Meade?" asked Wade. "I don't care for what Rhett's done to my mother, but how could you and Uncle Henry plan such a thing?"

After a few minutes of bluster, the doctor had to admit it. "What could you want it for, anyway?"

"Scarlett wants it, and at the moment I'm in no position to deny her anything."

Several minutes later, Rhett and Wade were on their way to Pittypat Hamilton's house. That lady, shocked to find Rhett on her doorstep, quickly needed attention. After she received it, her visitors explained that Rhett would be out of town for a few weeks, perhaps until Scarlett came back, and would Miss Pitty be so kind as to look after her great-nephew as she did last spring, while he continued at school?

Pitty, seeing the advantage of having a young man about the house, especially her dear brother's grandson, was eager to agree. "And how is dear Scarlett?" she finally asked. "We've been so worried about her health all this year."

Wade cleared his throat and held his Aunt Pitty's hand. "Mother had a baby girl on Tuesday, Aunt Pitty. She was named for Aunt Melly."

More fainting ensued, and it was a full hour before Rhett extracted himself and Wade, promising to send the boy back with his things that evening.

* * *

Rhett and Scarlett anxiously awaited Doctor Owen's one-week examination of Melanie and held hands while he looked the baby over. "She's no worse," he said, allowing her parents to take their first full breath since he arrived. "She might even be a trifle better. She's putting on weight and she looks altogether healthier around her eyes. I still think you can safely plan to go to Atlanta when she's a month old, if that's your wish."

He gave Scarlett a quick check up and pronounced that she was returning to normal health. "You need to stay out of trouble for a few weeks, yet," he admonished her. "No heavy lifting, no hard housework, nothing like carrying water to the fields, and no picking cotton whatsoever. This won't be your season."

"Yes, Doctor Owen," she said with a guilty look on her face.

The doctor soon left. Melanie was hungry, so Scarlett removed her dressing gown to feed her. Rhett sat on the bed too, and Scarlett took his hand.

"The love I have for you eats me up, Rhett," she said.

She sounded a little like when she was getting ready to touch him for a loan. She always spent a fair amount of time trying to find a way to approach him.

"You know that—"

"Please let me finish. It's important that you know that you're in every thought of my mind, that everything I feel and touch makes me think of you. You're the most important thing in the world to me."

He squeezed her hand a little, wondering where she was going.

"I want it clear that I'm not saying this because I don't give a damn. I care, very much. But Rhett, I think you may need to leave again."

He was at a complete and utter loss. How could she want him to leave? She had begged him to stay three years before and every time she saw him since then. "What have we been doing this past week?" He'd been sleeping with her in her bed and rarely left her side.

"We've been taking care of our daughter, and Doctor Owen told me to avoid any strain. I wanted—needed—you to be beside me."

"Doesn't that tell you something?"

"It tells me what will make _me_ happiest."

"So despite your own preferences and needs, you feel it incumbent to cast me aside. Where do you want me to go?"

She looked up at him, her eyes bright. "You need to go wherever you've been happiest."

"Scarlett, I—"

She shook her head. "It hasn't been a week for saying important things, Rhett. Doctor Owen told me to avoid trouble for a while, but this bit can't wait any longer. I know what you've said you want since you came home to Atlanta in April, but you haven't been with me in all that time, so you haven't had a chance to argue with me and get tired of me." She swallowed hard. "You would have been gone by the end of May."

"It's different now."

"Is it?" She gave him a clear look, trying to figure out what he was thinking, but she shook her head. "You're hiding whatever you really think from me, just like you usually do. I've thought, these last three years, that you just needed time, that you would see what a wonderful life we have together and how much better it could be if we just tried, but I can't fight the world you dream of."

"Charleston wasn't real."

"It was real enough that you indulged yourself in it. If you disappoint them this time, they will never let you back."

"So be it."

She shook her head while she moved the baby.

"You don't believe me."

"That's not the question."

"What is?"

"What do _you_ believe?"

He must have given her a look, because she continued. "When I got on the train in Charleston, I was wearing that necklace and I was so proud. _I_ believed you had some sort of affection for me after those last few nights, and I thought I was a woman who had _everything_. All the while, you were already in the tea shop with that Alice."

"It had nothing to do with Alice. It was Charleston."

She sighed and said, "Fine, you were in the tea shop with _Charleston_. It left me in the same place. You did all the things with _Charleston_ that Charleston would never ever let you do with me. I was full of love and contentment on that train, and you and _Charleston_ were destroying everything I thought I had _at that exact moment_. I can't pretend it doesn't matter, Rhett."

She was holding his hand so tightly that he feared it would go numb.

"It's been less than six months since you left her there. You can sign the papers and go back and they'll just think it took that long to get all of the af— _affairs_ in order. You can marry the woman you were meant to marry, and then you'll have it all, the dignity, the peace, the grace…"

It was like a punch in his stomach. He looked at her a long minute and, reaching for mockery asked, "Which of Henry's potential suitors are you going to select?"

She dropped his hand as her face turned red, then white. The baby was finished eating and Scarlett pulled her close to her still-bare chest, absentmindedly patting and rubbing her back. "How dare you?" she finally responded, speaking quietly.

"Was the good doctor on that list? There's something a little unprofessional about how he looks at you."

Her eyes narrowed. "How _dare_ you? I shall never marry again."

It came out before he had a chance to think, in a much more dismissive tone than he should have used. "You've told me that before."

"And only someone who kissed like—" She was quiet for a long minute, looking toward the window. He was curious; he held his tongue. He remembered the kisses of their protracted courtship and how she would become so very soft. An enormous burp came out of Melanie, who fussed for a second or two and then settled against her mother's chest, asleep. Scarlett held the child close and kissed her head. Then she laid her in the cradle and fastened her nightgown back up.

"I'm not marrying any of those sissified gentlemen, even the nice ones, who will beg me to lift the hem of my nightgown and roll over once they get their brats on me. But I'm not staying married to you if you can't stand to be with me any more. I've learned to be content this year. I have work to do and I have these children. If you're going to go and if you care about me at all, you should go now. Please don't humiliate me again. I know you can be cruel, but surely you've been cruel enough."

"This is because of Alice? It's not going to happen again."

"How do you know that? You can't even tell me how it happened this time!" She waved her hands. "So you won't be staying in Charleston again, rekindling what appeared to be an old romance. But how am I to know you won't decide to look for your better world in France, traipsing around with one of those women you tried to turn me into all those years ago? How do I know you won't go back to Japan or Egypt, or that you won't try someplace new like Australia?"

They stared at each other a full minute, her face questioning, and his own unreadable. As usual, she was always honest and he hid everything. Rhett sighed and leaned back against the headboard. "Where do you want me to go?"

She slid her hand along his face, her own filled with such naked longing that he had to close his eyes. "Someplace you can think, where you can really _decide_. I don't want your home to be a place you have to leave every few weeks. I don't want to be the woman who chases after you and ends up chasing you away. You need to find your happiness. I know where mine is, but I don't think it's possible for me to have it any longer, not if you can't be happy with me."

He shook his head. "Don't make me leave. I can't be away from Melanie, or the other children. Scarlett, I spent the entire spring and summer desperately waiting for the moment that I could be _with_ _you_."

She smiled. "You _have_ been wonderful lately with Ella and Gerald, and even Wade seemed less angry at you than he was all summer."

"Please let me stay."

She closed her eyes, as though trying to summon strength. "I should ask Will to throw you out, for your own sake," she whispered. "I can't do it. I want you by me too much." Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

He put his arm around her. "I finally realized that I belong with you. In Charleston, I had everything I thought I wanted, and suddenly it was wrong. That's why I came back. I had no idea that you had left, that you had spoken with Henry about a divorce, and if I'd had the slightest thought of a baby..." He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "I was coming back to you, with the idea never to leave again. This is where I belong, Scarlett." He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her forehead, eyes, cheeks. He placed a soft kiss on her lips. She kissed him back but pulled away slightly.

"Do you really mean it? I wish I could believe you."

"Would you rather I stay in the guest room?" he asked.

"That might be better," she answered, satisfied for now in some sort of resolution.

It was better than he had a right to expect. Rhett looked around the room, in which their things were mingled, his suits and her dresses in the wardrobe, his shirt studs and her hair pins in the dish on the vanity. All of those things would need to be sorted out.

The vanity also had the two files on it. He had brought them here after leaving Wade at Pitty's house and offered them to Scarlett. She had asked him to leave them on the vanity until later. He considered what was in those files. In Scarlett's file, most of the contents probably had to do with him. Without his presence, she toed the old guard's line with ill-concealed contempt, but she toed the line. With him, she said and did anything she pleased, and Doctor Meade no doubt documented every moment of that. His own file—he shuddered to think what was in it.

He looked down. The exhaustion of pregnancy and childbirth hadn't left her yet, and she was asleep in his arms. A great tenderness welled up within him. She was worn out by the troubles of the last several years and yet she still trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms. In many ways she was as fragile as their daughter. She wasn't ready to look at the files, and she wasn't making a final decision. She was telling him to take the time to make his own decision with proper thought.

He kissed Scarlett's forehead and gently laid her back down among her pillows. She sighed and murmured but did not wake up. Ella would be playing with her cousins, no doubt, but Jerry would be looking for mischief to get into.

 _A/N: Thank you, darlings, for your support, especially **WhitmanFrostFiend, gabyhyatt, abbygale94, Phantom710, COCO B, kanga85, Melody-Rose-20, Truckee Gal, breakfastattiffanygs, TheFauxGinge, Laina Lee, breakfastattiffanygs, Romabeachgirl1981, asline Nicole,** **Guest,** and _**Aunt Pitty**


	32. Chapter 32

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

The next day, Rhett went to Atlanta to check on Scarlett's businesses as well as check on his own holdings. He exchanged greetings with Sylvester Hammond as he regularly did in the course of doing business. Sylvester glowered at Rhett and asked after Scarlett in a way that made Rhett's lip curl. " _My wife_ has just had a baby, I don't think she's looking for a husband right now."

Hammond stood up and stammered, "I c-can wait until she's ready."

"What about the children? Will you wait until they're ready?"

"To be ma-married to a gu-girl like her, I c-can bec-become like a father to them."

" _Like_ a father?" Rhett stepped closer. "Those are _my_ children. I've loved them as dearly as I've loved their mother, all four of them. Wade remembers some of the horrors of the war. He has excellent instincts and wants to be brave but he still needs just enough of a guiding hand to help him find his way. Ella is a little flighty, and she gets passed over all too often. She has an ear for Latin and who knows what else. She needs a college education. Jerry is such a sturdy lad, with bold vision, and fearless. He needs to be reined in until he's big enough to do the things he sees. And Melanie…" Rhett swallowed hard. "Melanie just needs to be loved and adored." He couldn't bring Bonnie into it. "Can you love them all like that? Can you even _fathom_ what it takes to love a woman like Scarlett and her children?"

"Should I be so for-fortunate as to have her as my wife, I intend to d-do my d-duty b-by her. I'm sure she will appreciate me."

"But can you possibly appreciate her?" Rhett couldn't take any more of the conversation. He gathered the papers. "If I thought there was the slightest chance that any of you could love her as she really is, I wouldn't stand in her way," he said, "but none of you have ever even tried to really understand her. None of you are good enough."

* * *

Rhett bought a buggy and horse while in Atlanta that day and drove it out to Tara. Suellen was on the front porch when he arrived. "That's quite a buggy," she said with a sigh. I don't think I've seen one like that in Jonesboro."

"It's not from Jonesboro, it's from Atlanta," he replied.

"I should have known it was yours," she muttered.

They walked toward the barn, leading the horse and buggy as they went.

"Actually, I bought it in case Scarlett needs to go anywhere while we're here, but afterward, it's yours."

"You're giving it to us?" Suellen perked up at that. "The horse, too?"

"I'm giving them to you," he answered gently. "It's a gift to acknowledge your hospitality to us all of this time."

"Tara belongs to Scarlett as much as to me. More, maybe."

"Your life gets disrupted when she's here. It's a little enough thing for me to offer, Suellen. I know your sister appreciates all you've done for her this year, even if she doesn't admit it. She's often remarked that your life would be pleasanter without her around so much."

"Thank you, Rhett."

Rhett unhitched the horse, and Suellen led them to an unused stall. Together they started brushing the horse down.

"How bad was it, this spring?" he asked.

Suellen thought for a moment. "Scarlett never said a word about why she came. She just showed up with the children and walked straight into Mother's study to go over the books. She's spent most of the time in her room other than that. We hardly ever saw her, but we heard her. She cried all day and then had nightmares all night. It was obvious pretty soon that she was in the family way, but we couldn't get her to tell us what happened. Finally, Will got it out of her. We just tried to give her space she needed and left her alone."

"It's not my best moment."

Suellen put the brushes away and shrugged. "The day Father Halloran came with your letter, suddenly she was happy again, but a crazy sort of happy. We had no idea what she might do. Fortunately, she settled down quickly. She stopped crying, and every so often we heard her whisper, 'Maybe.' She's had fewer nightmares, too. She's been like Careen in the weeks before she went to the Convent."

Rhett could easily picture it. "That must have been difficult with your new baby."

Sue shrugged. "I was awake because of him half the time anyway, and Will seemed to sleep right through. The doctors wouldn't let her do anything, so there are a lot of places she's had to avoid."

They walked slowly back to the house.

"You're more generous with her than I remembered," Rhett remarked.

"She needs us, now that you could divorce her at any moment. When it's all over she'll owe me."

And there it was. Scarlett's losses would put her in her sister's debt. Suellen was a cold-hearted woman—colder even than Scarlett, truth be told—and Will Benteen was welcome to her.

"Maybe this time she'll stay," she continued. "She bought the old MacIntosh property that Pa always wanted. I think she plans to live in the house and let Will work the farm."

* * *

The nightmares started that night. Rhett ran in from the guest room to find her wild eyed and crying. "I'm here, my love," he whispered. He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her forehead and then her hairline. She came out of it and clung to him.

"I thought—"

"It's just a dream."

"Not entirely, Rhett."

"What was it about?"

"Everyone came to laugh at me, to tell me I should have known better. They had letters and papers and they kept laughing at me. They poked me with their walking sticks and parasols. I couldn't run away from them. It's never going to end."

"I'm here, Scarlett. I won't let that happen."

"For as long as you are here." She took a deep breath. "You can go back to your room, now."

She was still trembling and he wasn't going anywhere. "Why don't I stay here, until you fall back asleep?"

She looked at him through wet eyelashes. "Because you're not always here and I need to learn."

He held her all the more snugly. "I'm here now and I have you. Rest, at least until the baby needs you again."

* * *

Scarlett was given a long list of things not to do by Doctor Owen, but it still left her with quite a few things she could do, now. By the end of the first day she took over the office, poring over the various ledgers and making notes. By the time the second day was over, she was giving directions to almost every member of the household, which seemed to run a little smoother under her direction. Even Rhett found himself being asked to look after things for her businesses in town.

"Just like Miss Ellen," said Dilcey, approvingly.

"She'll never be mother," said Suellen with a sniff.

Rhett liked to watch her go over the most recent page from a book, make notes in the book, and then on a separate piece of paper, which she set aside until later. Every so often, she would touch her mother's rosary beads. She was still vain enough to wear dresses that enhanced her beauty, jewel tones that made her skin look more creamy and brought out the brightness in her eyes.

At some point the baby, who was sleeping in a sort of basket that was laid on the sofa behind the desk, would fuss, and Scarlett would sit on the sofa to feed her. On one such occasion she looked up and saw him watching her. "What?" Her eyes narrowed, but she wasn't angry.

"I'm watching you build a dynasty."

Her eyes narrowed a little more. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No. I am admiring you."

He sat down next to her and put his arm around her. She tipped her head onto his shoulder. "Is this how your mother did it? Making notes and sending people all over the plantation to do what needed to be done, and then mothering her children in between?"

"I suppose. She was so much smoother at it."

"How do they manage when you're not here?"

"They do just fine. Will always knows exactly what to do, and I can keep up with the books from Atlanta."

"Your brother-in-law loves this farm almost as much as you do."

"More, in some ways."

"Did your father know that your mother was the real force behind making the plantation run?"

"He built it up before he even met her, although I can't imagine it ran as smoothly. She had a way about her."

"You have a way about you too, Scarlett. I like the way you do this."

"It won't be as good when I leave, but I'll be glad to get back to Atlanta," she sighed. "I just know everything there is going to ruin."

"You know I don't mind going," Rhett said. He realized it was true. Perhaps it made him like his father-in-law, who built Tara into a formidable concern but by the end of his wife's life simply went wherever on the plantation she said he was needed. Rhett felt that since he knew it was happening, and since he had so much of his own business to look after as well, he wouldn't mind taking care of the things Scarlett wanted done. She always looked for his opinion and adjusted her plans when he pointed out weaknesses or strengths. The way of her parents always sounded functional but not particularly happy. The way he and Scarlett seemed to do things could provide a lifetime of working together and camaraderie.

Scarlett O'Hara had always been charming, in all the ways that the women of her kind were taught to be charming. Now as he watched her, he saw that she had developed much of the grace and dignity he had started to crave. She'd also found an inner peace, which he recognized was intimately connected to her wanting him to find his own place in the world. When Rhett had watched her climb the staircase at Twelve Oaks, he knew she was going to be the center of his world. As he stared at the desk from which Scarlett was currently building her kingdom, he understood that by now Scarlett had built that world. He kissed the top of her head and wondered how he could explain it to her.

* * *

On his next trip from Atlanta, Rhett found a certain item and brought it back to Tara with him. After Scarlett retired for the night, he crept down the hallway to her door and sat near it, holding a guitar. He tuned the guitar, strummed a few chords, and tuned it again. He had threatened to do this on the night she agreed to marry him. He paused, considering, but then decided to recall the war by singing "Aura Lea."

Rhett watched the moonlight flicker under her door and then disappear entirely. Scarlett was standing or sitting right on the other side. He considered some other songs and settled upon one he had learned in South America. He stumbled over pronouncing some of the words; he hadn't thought of the song in years. Now he recalled thinking it was meaningless drivel at the time, all about passionate kisses when his own youthful passions ran primarily to mayhem. Now the words meant something to him. They were part of the passions he had developed for this woman, that he'd so poorly expressed in so many ways, never sure that she would accept them and even less sure now that he'd broken her heart.

Other songs came to mind, and he played those as well. There had been so much music during the war, a way for everyone to forget the troubles of their lives. Even after the war, when Rhett had courted Scarlett under Frank's nose, there were still musical evenings and they would sing together. After their marriage they fell out of the habit. He wondered if they could find time for it again, now.

A quiet fussing was heard, followed by Scarlett's bare feet quickly moving across the wooden floor. Then there was shushing noises. A moment later the bed squeaked and Rhett heard Scarlett's soft sigh as she settled the baby to feed. Realizing that he'd stopped the music somewhere, he slipped into a song he was sure she'd recognize, "The Last Rose of Summer." It would do for a lullaby.

That night there was no nightmare. Rhett woke the next morning in the room still thought of as "Miss Ellen's Guest Room," and quickly went down to check on Scarlett. She had just fed the baby and was quietly talking and making faces to her. She looked up and saw him. "Oh, Rhett! She's so sweet!"

He came and sat on the edge of the bed, putting an arm around his wife and looking at the baby. He wondered if he would spend the rest of his life being melted daily as Melanie looked at him with that open-eyed expression. There was no question that he wanted to. He looked at his wife, whose pleasure to see him looked genuine. Scarlett was far ahead of him. When he'd left her, convinced that the only way forward was to tear apart a marriage that had never gotten a fair start, she had worked and constructed a family, filled with an affection he never would have expected possible from a soul he'd mistakenly thought was bankrupt of finer feelings.

There was no doubt that Scarlett had broken Rhett's heart after Bonnie was born. In response he'd drunk himself half to death wishing that things could change but having no idea what to do about it. She, in the meanwhile, had been plugging away at life, mindful of her obligations, and even after he broke her heart this winter, she kept at it.

"I love you."

He went cold at the sound of his own voice. He had not meant to say that. It had just slipped out. There was such a sense of security in being here together with her that whatever was on his lips tumbled out. He looked at her in fear, wondering what she would do with it.

She was looking into his eyes and seemed to decide something. She turned toward the baby again and said, "How could you help loving her? She's such a darling thing."

She knew what he meant. She _had_ to know. Was she protecting either herself or him? "That she is," he responded.

 _A/N: Thanks to the lovely readers and reviewers out there, including **gabyhyatt, COCO B, WhitmanFrostFiend, Truckee Gal, Melody-Rose-20, kanga85, samandfreddie, Romabeachgirl1981, Laina Lee, Asline Nicole,** **abbygale94,** and **Guest**_


	33. Chapter 33

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell and her assigns._

On the second night with the guitar, Rhett sang old songs, ending with "Beautiful Dreamer." There were a few moments when he thought Scarlett was humming along, but then he realized that she was feeding the baby while sitting there against the door. That didn't mean she wasn't humming along.

It would be better if they could share the bed and he could put his arm around Scarlett as she fed their child, but nothing ever worked for the two of them as it did for others. This odd courtship ritual of serenading her as she and the baby settled down for the night would have to suffice. It was enough for now that they had this.

If the other residents of the household had anything to say about these musical interludes, they kept quiet. It was somewhat surprising, in fact, that Scarlett's sister had nothing to say, although there was a twitching about her lips as she oversaw breakfast that he knew was related to his singing. Will, ever relaxed and quiet, said not a word, although he could be trusted to whistle one of the tunes from the night before as he drove the mules out to the fields for the day.

Father Halloran somehow heard about it and chuckled when Rhett visited him on a weekly trip to Atlanta. "Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast," he said.

"Scarlett will tell you that I'm the beast," answered Rhett.

"I've seen her when she's got a full head of steam and then erupts upon someone who's made extremely poor choices in her opinion. She needs the music as much as you do. Well, Captain, how goes the campaign?"

"I told her I love her."

"How did she take it?"

"I didn't mean to… I blurted it out and immediately regretted it."

"Why on earth would you regret it?"

He ran his fingers into his hair. "I don't know. It was too soon, too exposed… _terrifying_."

"Doesn't she tell you she loves you?"

"Not very often, and she usually apologizes. I convinced her I didn't want to hear it, before."

"What did Scarlett say after you said it?"

"She played it off, as though I'd been telling little Mell I love _her_. Of course I love the baby, the most hardened heart in the world would have to love her at first sight."

"Did she know the truth?"

"I'm sure she does. She doesn't pay attention to the intangible things, but she has an uncanny perception…"

"So you've admitted to the woman you've loved for a decade and a half that you do indeed love her, and you know she loves you in return. What terrible plague do you now expect to befall you? Do you still expect her to hurt you?"

"What if she doesn't believe me, or if she decides it's not enough? What if now she decides to use it against me? She spent the first several years of our acquaintance trying to get the upper hand over me."

"What if you find yourselves so deeply in love that it's more than enough? What if she returns your love and together you make a good home for yourselves and your children and friends?"

"Is that sort of thing real?"

"You've done a lot of rebuilding the physical house. Why not the family?"

"Are you saying it might be worth the risk?"

"That's for you to decide."

Rhett frowned, but nodded. There was another question that had started to trouble him. "Henry Hamilton said that you thought the request for annulment would go through easily. I'm worried that they still may try to take matters into their own hands."

"Where did you get married?"

"City Hall—No one wanted to be at our wedding."

"I took the liberty of looking at the Baptismal Certificate of one Katie Scarlet O'Hara. Your marriage to her was never recorded. Did you ever take vows before a priest?"

Rhett thought a moment. "So that's what lack of form means."

"Indeed."

"Is there a way to correct that?"

"There always is."

* * *

Melanie's first month wound down in the beginning of October, and the last night before the doctor would come arrived. Rhett was unsettled, as he hadn't been since the last days of the war, which is why he found himself strumming the chords to "When this Cruel War is over." Scarlett was definitely humming along. If he closed his eyes he could remember the thrill of holding her in his arms for the very first time at the hospital bazaar and how light she was as he'd swung her around.

He played a few chords to "My Old Kentucky Home," but somehow couldn't sing the words. Scarlett quietly sang them for him, as he had once sung them for her. He'd started an argument on a terrible night during the siege, just as he always did, and Pitty had sent Scarlett to the piano in an attempt to cool everyone's emotions. All of the songs she played had been sad, until Rhett had suggested this one, and even then she struggled with it until Rhett sang with her.

 _A few more days for to tote the weary load,  
No matter 'twill never be light.  
A few more days till we totter on the road,  
Then my old Kentucky home, good-night._

He strummed the guitar without anything in particular in mind for a moment and then heard her voice again, sounding choked.

 _Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears a single star!_  
 _Hurrah! Hurrah..._

Memories flooded him and perhaps Scarlet too: Melanie Wilkes singing that chorus with tears in her eyes every time, and again alluding to it on the day Eugenie Victoria Butler was born. It connected Rhett's and Scarlett's losses and because of it the song was part of Melanie Rose as well.

"Good night, my love," Scarlett said quietly and carefully, as though speaking over tears. He could hear her stand and move across the room to put the baby back in the cradle.

* * *

Doctor Owen looked Scarlett over first and then Melanie. Rhett came into the room to hear his assessment. "Scarlett is looking much better. Whatever you've been doing for her, you need to keep doing it. I'd say she's able to do anything she used to, as long as it's nothing strenuous. You're still forbidden from doing any of the farming." He frowned down at Scarlett, who looked a little cowed.

"Yes, Doctor," she said.

"And… Melanie?" Rhett asked.

"Your daughter looks good. She's put on some weight and all indications are that she's perfectly normal for a child her age. There's just that murmur. It might be nothing, but you will need to watch for any sign that she's getting sick. As I said before, keep an eye on her. Altogether, I don't see any reason you can't go back to Atlanta if you like."

He pulled Rhett outside the room and said, "Keep an eye on Scarlett as well. Protect her from strain if you can."

"I thought you said she's better."

"So she is, but we nearly lost her, Captain Butler. I think she's fine, but I'd be inhuman if I didn't have a lingering concern."

"So should I keep her quietly at home?"

Doctor Owen thought a minute. "No, she should resume her normal activities as she feels up to it, even your normal marital life, but encourage her to go slowly."

* * *

Doctor Owen's warning was echoing in Rhett's ears when the next morning Scarlett insisted that they go on a picnic. Rhett agreed and hitched the horse to the buggy while she made the other arrangements.

There was a crispness in the air as they set off, sure to be burned away by the October sunshine that was still relentless as summer reluctantly gave way to fall. They drove past Tara's blossoming fields, and Rhett understood the wonder of cotton when he saw Scarlett's eyes take it in and her breath catch.

She guided him to a farmhouse. He'd be surprised if it was five rooms inside. It had a new roof but otherwise looked as though it hadn't been improved since 1850. When they went inside, he discovered the difference. The walls had been whitewashed recently, and the floors freshly sanded. The furniture was the most surprising thing. It looked comfortable and right in the main room, but it wasn't worn. She'd picked it out new. It wasn't what he would have expected.

"This is beautiful," he said.

"Do you really think so?" she asked. I put most of this together right after I moved out here. I wanted some place to come so I could—well so I could be by myself while I worried about everything. The last time I was here was Jerry's birthday."

"Oh, my love," he whispered. He tried to take her into his arms, but she slipped away and set the basket with their food on the table. She then took the baby out of the basket he was holding and laid her in a crib near a large sofa that was close to the fireplace. "Your sister said you planned to live here."

"If I need to be away from Atlanta, I could come here."

"How did you buy it?"

"The sale of the saloon was more than enough."

"I don't want you to leave Atlanta."

"I never once wanted _you_ to leave Atlanta, either. Sometimes we wish for things we can't have."

He watched her set their dishes on the table. She wasn't being argumentative, but she was determined that her thoughts would be recognized. He peeked in the basket, and along with more dishes covered by kitchen towels, he realized she'd placed the files from her vanity.

"I take it this is to be a working lunch."

She flinched. "We can't go back to Atlanta without settling the question of divorce between us. Uncle Henry would probably move Aunt Pittypat into our house to chaperone us. I couldn't stand that any more than you could, especially since India would follow her. We can't settle the divorce without knowing everything, even if that means I have to read Uncle Henry's file and you have to read Doctor Meade's."

Rhett put his hand over hers. "Scarlett, you have to be careful of the things that cause you anguish. If you'd rather not…"

"Don't you see?" she asked. "If we don't do this, they'll bring a steady parade of men through the house. _They_ will decide which is the best option, and if you're gone on one of your trips…" She cleared her throat and pulled some cutlery out of the basket. "We may have the files, but _they_ still know what's in them and will use it. We have to do this."

They sat and ate.

"My mother wants to come to Atlanta to see the children, so that she can get back to Charleston before Rosemary gets too big."

Scarlett smiled, whether from pleasure in his effort to make normal conversation or his topic, it was immaterial. "We should have the November party in Mell's honor and also to honor your mother, regardless of what we decide."

He grabbed her hand. "Do you honestly think we will decide anything other than staying together?"

"I don't know what Doctor Meade has in there about me."

"I'm sure most of it is really about me."

The baby cried; a real honest cry, not fussing. Scarlett stood up. "She probably needs to be changed and fed. Would you mind getting some water? I'll wash the dishes after I'm done with her." When he came back inside, she was sitting on the sofa kissing a tiny fist while the baby nursed for all she was worth. He could do nothing but stare at them.

She looked up at him. "What is it?"

She had already played off the first thought in his mind, so he went with the second one. It wasn't much better. "You're absolutely beautiful. I can't stop looking at you."

She looked down again, clearly dismayed. "I'm not used to compliments from you."

He placed the water over on the work table in the kitchen and came back to the sofa. "That's my fault," he said. "I was so scared of what I felt for you that I tried to push it away by pretending you didn't deserve my love. I told you that you were pretty but that it wasn't important. I insulted your intelligence. I gave you no credit for the good things you did."

She smiled a little at that, pleased by his honesty and willing to offer her own. "I was always looking for a way to get the upper hand with you, even when I knew I should have been kinder and more giving." She looked down and back up. "That was the last thing Melly said to me you know, that I should be kind to you. I think she was scolding me in her way."

 _A/N Thanks so much readers and reviewers, including **gabyhyatt, abbygale94, COCO B, kanga85, Truckee Gal, Melody-Rose-20, samandfreddie, Romabeachgirl1981, TheFauxGinge, Laina Lee,** **Asline Nicole,** and **Kinderby,**_


	34. Chapter 34

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

After the baby went to sleep and they put the kitchen area to rights, the moment came. Scarlett laid the files on the table in front of the sofa. The file on Rhett sat in front of Scarlett, the file on Scarlett sat in front of Rhett, and the divorce settlement and pile of letters and papers from the office on Peachtree Street sat in the very middle.

"I have no idea how to start," she said.

"My file is largest; perhaps we should start with that."

The most recent items were on the top. Scarlett looked over general information about Rhett's escorting Alice around Charleston. "I know all of this." She took a deep breath and let it out. "So far so good."

Rhett put his hand on hers. "I never had the slightest interest in her."

Scarlett sifted through the papers and letters and then held up a newspaper clipping. "This looks like interest."

Rhett saw a picture of what was unmistakably himself kissing a woman passionately. It didn't match a single memory of the times Alice had kissed him. He looked harder at the picture. "Scarlett, that's the hat I bought you two days before Christmas. Do you remember that little shop? This is _you_."

She looked at it again and gave it a laugh. "So it is." She stood up to put it on the table they had eaten at. "I've been staring at that picture until I've wanted to scream. I could ignore most of it, but that kiss was what made it all sound true."

He grabbed her hand as she sat back down. "Is there anything else you want to ask about this past winter?"

She shook her head. "I think we've been through it. I just wish I could understand _why_ , and then why you couldn't be the one to tell me about it yourself."

"My mother says I was drinking too much."

"Were you?"

"We both know I've been a worse drunk than that. I'm not sure I can find the words, Scarlett. Charleston is my childhood home, the way Tara is to you, but not in the healthy way of this place. Tara feeds you, but Charleston eats at me and reminds me of all the things I never had because I couldn't get along with my father."

Scarlett's hand crept over to touch his, and he thought maybe he finally had at least started to explain it. Rhett opened up Scarlett's file. There was a long description of finding her at the train station. "Wade told me about this," he said with a lump in his throat. "What were you going to do if you got to Charleston?" he asked.

"I hadn't a clue. My head ached so badly. I just wanted to see you, to hear you tell me it was all a lie, to wake up from the nightmare."

"Why did you go?"

She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out an envelope. He opened up the letter and read.

 _Dear Mrs. Butler,_

 _I have heard from my brother's future wife that your marriage is over. We believe that everyone's interest would be best served if you had the documents prepared so that everything could be completed by the end of the season. We understand he plans to go to Atlanta in April._

 _I realize that there are many reasons you might want to stay married to him, perhaps half a million of them or more. Alice agrees to make sure Rhett is agreeable to giving you at least a quarter of a million reasons to prepare the divorce quickly…_

The letter went on in this vein for another page until it was signed "Yours sincerely, Thomas Butler."

"I'll kill him," he whispered. "What were you going to do?"

"I was going to ask you if it was true, I was going to tell you it couldn't be true. I would remind you of what we had… if nothing else, I needed you to hold me and tell me everything would be all right." She burst into tears. "There was no one to turn to. Then they brought me home and I had nothing. They want me to do all the things I do for them, but without any—without _you_."

He saw it all as if he was there and remembered the moment she'd been most desperate in her life. He pulled her into his arms as he had then. "My poor darling girl, I'm so sorry."

She beat his chest with her fists. "How could you do that to me? How could you leave me like that?"

He murmured something calming to her until she relaxed. "Because I'm a cad, my love. I wronged you, and worse I let other people think they had the right to hurt you, too. All I can do is ask your forgiveness and hope you'll give me the time to prove I will never do it again."

She pulled her head away and looked up at him. "How much time?"

He took out his handkerchief and caught some of the tears still sliding from her eyes. "The rest of my life might be long enough."

They sat quietly for a while, until Scarlett took a deep breath and turned back to the table.

The next several papers in Rhett's folder were about his travels since Melanie Wilkes' death. "Do you want to go back to any of these places?" she asked.

"I want to take you to some of them," he answered. I want to see Mount Fuji through your eyes and to dress you in Paris. I never got to the Taj Mahal but I want to see it with you. I want you to see La Traviata in full at La Scala. I want to see if you agree that some of the things I saw were odd and that others contain sheer beauty. I don't want to go by myself. I've had far too much time with myself. More than that, I want you to be the one with me." He looked up. "I don't want to leave you again."

She slid her hand along his face for a moment but said nothing.

In digging, they found matching entries concerning the separate bedrooms and Rhett's relationship with Belle Watling.

"I wish they hadn't lumped it all together," he said.

"Was it really so different, sometimes?"

He nodded. "After Bonnie died, actually after _you_ almost died, I couldn't—it just wouldn't happen. I was too drunk. I saw that you left your door open all those nights. I think I know why now, but at the time it just mocked me. I might have gone in there any time I wanted, but I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it."

"Except to be with the mother of the children we lost."

"It never occurred to me."

"And I never had the nerve to go to you directly."

They were quiet for several minutes pondering what that said about both of them. Rhett started again. "After Bonnie was old enough to notice if I came and went, it was pretty rare for me to slip out and go over there. Before that, though, I went to Belle's pretty frequently. I had to drink a bit for it to work, and I understand I said your name quite often."

Scarlett fingered the notes. "I never should have listened to Ashley… I should have realized that I only understand half of what he says, anyway."

"I could have calmly pointed out that we didn't need separate bedrooms to avoid children."

The day of the fateful birthday party was next in Scarlett's file. "Do you even want to know what really happened?" she asked. "It was all so stupid."

"I do, if you want to tell me."

"Ashley was reflecting on his life and everything he lost, like he always does, and he was going on and on about it but then he started mentioning everything we lost in the county, all the young men who died and all the homes destroyed, and you know I hate to think about those things, and suddenly I was crying. He finally realized it and was trying to calm me down as if I was a child, and I realized right around then that I didn't care about him like that anymore. I kept trying to get away from having his arms around me. If India and Archie could have been ten minutes later, I would have known that there was no love between us."

"Were there any arms you did want?"

Scarlett looked into his eyes, her own completely clear. "I knew when he was holding me that I wanted _you_ to understand, to take my side, and by the end of the night, I knew, absolutely, whose arms I wanted. You said something about wanting just the two of us in our bed that night, and you accomplished that."

He touched her hand, "But the next morning I couldn't stand myself, so I left you."

"And when you finally came back I was hurt and confused and said the most nasty things I could think of."

"I do always leave, don't I?"

"And whatever the circumstances, I'm never as happy when you're gone."

Their entire marriage was considered a strike against both of them. There were details of how ill-advised everyone considered it, and then about the social circles they traveled in.

Scarlett looked up with a twinkle in her eye. "You know everyone from both cities will hate us if we stay together."

Rhett felt himself grin in return. "Do you care?"

She shook her head. "If we're really together, I can handle it."

Frank's death, and Scarlett's behavior that precipitated it filled several pages. "I wish it could have gone differently. I would have liked him far better as a brother-in-law, although Will is the best brother-in-law I could possibly ask for."

"I couldn't do a single thing to help you from that jail before you married him. I hated to feel so helpless, and you were trying to trick me and the two things made me so angry, Scarlett. I said some terrible things."

"But you gave me good advice. It worked on Frank, and if it had taken just a week longer—"

"I hated to give you that advice. I hated the thought of other men… even now I can't stand the thought. I told you that if Ashley really loved you he would have killed you rather than let you come to Atlanta to me. I knew that because even when you fainted and I held you in my arms, the thought was in my mind. It would have been better if you were dead and your family were cast out of Tara. Kennedy was a better option than most. I knew he wouldn't—that you would be able to bully him into leaving you alone most of the time."

"But only after I got pregnant," she sighed.

"Ella is becoming a lovely girl, though in those days I had moments of hating the fact of her. I could drive you to your mill and think of you as my own pregnant wife, and I could hold Ella and think of her as my daughter. Then Frank would walk into the room and the fantasy was gone."

Scarlet slid her hand over his. "I've learned to separate her in my mind from how I got her. Even now if I try I can remember Frank's delight in her, but when I think of her as a baby, I usually picture her in your arms."

* * *

Rhett's war record was in his file. Scarlett took it out and looked up. "Why?" she asked. "Why not at least get me to Tara first?"

"All through that ride, and even before then during the siege, I kept thinking of how you'd stayed in Atlanta long enough to do your duty, to take care of Melanie and her son. I of all people knew how odious that was to you and how your mind must have rebelled against it the whole time. I offered you a chance to get out, albeit a shameful option, I admit. I thought you would jump at the chance and you chose duty. I decided, but not until after we'd crossed the railroad tracks, that I needed to do my duty to my home if you could do yours, odious as I found it. There was also the thought that someday it might matter. So if we were really cut from the same cloth, I had to do that.

"Once that decision was made, I had to leave you before you got to Tara. Prissy, Melanie and the two babies weren't sufficient chaperones, and your parents would never accept me, although eventually I might have talked your father around. I couldn't have taken you home without marrying you, and your parents would have forbidden that. You would have been as bad off as Alice was, perhaps worse, and there was no pleasure in ruining your reputation like that."

A thought occurred to him and he looked up. "That night when I asked you to be my mistress—what if I'd asked you to marry me? Before you lost everything at home, and before I stopped trusting you?"

"I don't know. I remember thinking you were always holding back and wondering what it would be like if you ever let whatever it was out. The idea both excited and scared me. I also remember wanting you to declare yourself that whole time so that I could use the upper hand against you, just like you said I would. You always seemed to get the upper hand anyway. I think you would have talked me around, just like you did when we did get married. I was so jealous of Belle Watling in those days. I didn't feel like I could trust you, even though in most things I had to trust you."

"You always had a particular dislike for her."

"She flaunted what she did, and that she did it with you."

"I would have dropped her in a heartbeat if I thought you cared."

Scarlett's file was peppered with anecdotes about Ashley and all the times she'd given herself away, trying to attract and hold him. Even now, Rhett felt himself go cold. "So many times I would give you something… only to discover that you turned around and gave it to your Ashley. When you hired him to work at your mill, I wanted to kill you both. It was the last straw, so to speak."

She looked at her hands in her lap and then back up. "I can't even—I just had to do it. I thought the smiles and one or two kisses he gave me were such great gifts and my whole life became the hope that…"

"That what you dreamed of could become the fact? Did you and he ever consummate your affair?"

She shook her head. "No. There was a moment, right before I came to Atlanta after the war, when I thought he would, but he pushed me away."

"I always wondered what it would have been like."

A strange look came over her face. "What do you mean?"

"You were pretty blunt in complaining that the marital relation with your first two husbands was painful and embarrassing to you. I prided myself that it was at least occasionally enjoyable with me. What were you expecting with Ashley?"

She gave him an embarrassed smile. "I assumed it wouldn't matter, that our love would cover over it somehow."

He found himself chuckling despite the rage that filled him with the thought. "You would have quickly learned differently."

"I'm sure I would have been cured of Ashley forever at that point. Would you have rathered if I had?"

"No." It came out far too quickly. "I was too jealous of him."

They were quiet for a few minutes. "You're right, you know," she said out of the blue.

"About what?" Where had her mind gone this time?

"It was never painful or degrading with you. Sometimes it was fun, and sometimes I caught a little of what it _could_ be, and I really liked the way you held me in your arms afterward. I didn't realize all of it until the night you carried me up the stairs. If you had only stayed…"

"When I realized what I'd done, I couldn't face you. I couldn't risk you sending me away."

"And we're back to your cross purposes."

* * *

The wartime speculation came next. Scarlett had always known she should be scandalized, but even back then she'd thought there was something clever in what he'd done. Rhett smiled like he so often did in those days. "That's why we met. I was getting introductions through Frank Kennedy, and he brought me to Twelve Oaks, and my life was forever changed by the sight of you."

"I thought you were a cad at best. I told Cathleen Calvert that you were smiling as if you knew what I looked like without my shimmy."

"And I thought, when I first saw the set of your chin and the ways your eyes flashed, that I'd found someone I had no idea I was looking for. I felt instantly that we belonged together."

"You've told me that so often that I can't help but think you believed it."

"I still do," he said quietly. "You're the only woman I've ever met that has come close to matching me."

* * *

The rest of the file was about Rhett's years before the war. He'd gotten into some nefarious things prior to blockade running. "I had to make contacts and arrangements that would help me get my ships in and out," he explained. There were gun running, bootlegging, and suspected arrangements with underworld figures. Before that was mercenary work in South America and Cuba, gold mining, and gambling, which he'd done professionally. "I turned my hand at anything I thought would give me some money," he said. "Sort of like you with husbands."

"Fancy me doing mercenary work in Cuba!"

He looked her up and down. "I dare say there are some jobs you'd be good at. There's till work to be done there..."

He watched her start to get angry, and then her lip twitched. "We'd have to leave Mell."

He looked over at the cradle. "Absolutely not, then."

"You lived so much of a life while I was just a child," she observed. "You've told me some of these stories, but not all."

There were two items from his time in New Orleans. The first was a photograph of a teen-age boy. "Is this your ward? He's quite handsome. And he looks like someone I know." She gasped as she realized who it was.

Rhett nodded. "He's Belle's son."

Scarlett dropped it. "Oh. Is he your son, too?"

He shrugged. "I've never gotten a straight answer from her. He was born a little under eight months after I met her. It would seem doubtful, but I couldn't say for sure."

"He's so fair."

"Just like Belle is, under that red hair."

Scarlett picked up a newspaper story about a young woman found dead. "It says she bled to death in a pregnancy-related mishap." She looked up at Rhett. "Is she the one you told me about?"

He nodded. "I'm sure that one _was_ my child. I would have supported her and the child if I'd known. She was determined, and I never knew until it was too late. It was such a waste. She was a good sort, and something about it changed me."

Scarlett patted his hand. He looked up into her eyes. "I never would have done it, you know. If I really planned to, I would never have come to you first. I _wanted_ you to talk me out of the slightest idea of it."

He looked up. "Did I succeed?"

She smiled softly. "That was one moment when I thought you really cared about me. Then you said I had cost you so much money."

"I felt so terribly exposed. I was so happy, Scarlett, but you said you didn't want my child. I had to cover what I really felt."

"It wasn't my best moment." She started fingering the next item.

Rhett saw what came next. "I wish—"

Scarlett was gentle but firm. "You wanted me to see it all," she said. There was a newspaper clipping from a Charleston gossip column, describing the scandal, the duel, and the way Rhett's father cast him away from the family. "He sounds so cold."

"He wasn't the kindest gentleman," agreed Rhett. "He couldn't stand anything that wasn't perfect."

"It makes Miss Byrd sound as though she was either very foolish or trying to pull off a trick that failed."

"In light of how she behaved last winter, I may have to change my opinion. There's no way she could have been ignorant of the fact that I'd been all over town, happily married to my beautiful wife for an entire month before Christmas. Now Thomas' letter suggests there was almost some sort of scheme involved."

"Is that why you always leave? Because your father sent you away?"

Was it? Rhett thought of his father and this final moment, that ended a long line of moments where his father never showed the slightest approval or pride in him.

"I went back, I think I told you, when he died."

"I remember that."

"Mother thought he might—but he didn't. He refused to see me. Even on his death bed he cast me out."

Scarlett's small hand came up and stroked his cheek. "I'm always happiest when you're near, Rhett. Even when I hate you."

He turned his head and whispered, "I don't deserve you."

"There are many people who would say neither of us deserves to be happy, you know," she said with resignation in her voice.

He looked up, and both their mouths twitched with humor, but then he sighed.

"Why did you ask me to leave now?"

"Because…" She looked out the window. She took a deep breath. "I was starting to be happy again. Tara gives me something, but I was still missing something else until you came, Rhett. I realized I was starting to need you, and I thought you were just going to leave again. I didn't know how to make you stop leaving, Rhett, except to make you go for good. I think I will survive it if it happens now. If we wait, if I get used to your presence again..."

"What if I stay for good?"

"Can you do that?"

"I want to do that." She searched his face for a long moment, looking for something he didn't know how to give her. Finally, she looked away and went back to the file.

There was a clipping from some sort of military paper about Rhett being discharged from West Point. He read it after her. "I've never seen this. It sounds so much worse, but so much _cleaner_ than it really was. The hotel sent Father quite a bill. He was furious, but said that of course it would happen. He sent me there, hoping I'd be properly disciplined, but even the Army couldn't fix me. I had long since stopped worrying about whether he was proud of me or not."

He didn't initially notice Scarlett reading one last piece of paper. It was doctor's notes from an incident when Rhett was thirteen years old. Then he saw it, and the words came out without him really realizing he was speaking. He and twelve-year-old Thomas had been sneaking cigars and managed to burn down a small corn crib that held the feed for the farm animals. It was a significant loss but not a major one; there had only been about a month's worth of feed left in it. Thomas Senior had been so angry that he had whipped his eldest son. Rosalyn had nearly taken the children and left him that day, but she was pregnant with Rosemary and it was a difficult pregnancy. There were at least two losses after Thomas Junior that Rhett could recall. She had barely been able to give him any comfort in her condition.

Rhett's injuries for the most part healed quickly, but one spot became severely infected and he had been terribly sick. Thomas had ignored it, but Rhett's mammy caught the doctor's attention when he was calling on Rosalyn. The doctor was horrified by the extent of the damage and had to cut away some flesh to prevent a major infection. He was young, and it had healed well, so it was virtually invisible. One had to know the scar was there or feel it to find it, now. Scarlett raised tear filled eyes to Rhett's and reached over, placing her fingertips on the exact spot over his left hip. Rhett nodded, shocked that she of all people would have noticed, and she put her arms around his neck, pulling him to her.

Suddenly Rhett clasped his arms around her waist and cried into her shoulder, for the first time able to mourn the child he'd been, the very first child he'd lost at too young an age.

* * *

 _A/N: A little housekeeping is in order. When I started this story on the 20th of November, I had ten days to write fifty thousand words in order to complete Nanowrimo, which I did, and then I spent the next several weeks adding one to two thousand words more every day. We're pretty much caught up, now. Chapter thirty-five exists, but not in a very good form, and thirty-six is not yet existent. So I won't be posting the next chapter tomorrow night. The good news for those who are interested is that I'll be able to post the next chapter of Complimenting your Intelligence tomorrow instead. I was holding it back because of some head-canon that I wanted to post for this story, first, and here we are._

 _Thanks so much to the lovely readers and reviewers, who make it all that much more fun, including **gabyhyatt, COCO B, breakfastattiffanygs, kanga85, snowandbows, , Truckee Gal, Melody-Rose-20, Youglea Sandrome, Laina Lee, Romabeachgirl1981, samandfreddie, Phantom710, abbygale94,** **Guest,** and **Asline Nicole.**_


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns.

Rhett woke to candlelight and Scarlett speaking quietly to someone at the door. He was stretched out across the high-backed sofa, which was long enough for him to lie on. He felt a sense of déjà vu. "I'll be damned," he said quietly as he sat up and looked again. It was a replica of the one he'd napped upon until he'd heard her declaring her love to another man in April of 1861. The woman's attention to detail was impeccable. If she would go to the trouble of finding a sofa that evoked their first meeting, he took it as a sign that she wanted him in this house with her.

He heard her say, "Thank you, Will," and shut the door.

"Should we be going?" Rhett asked.

"You're awake," she said, putting a new basket on the table. "I told them when we left today that we might not be back tonight. They brought us some supper and perhaps we can use some of this for a breakfast, too. Will is looking after the horse for us."

They ate quietly. Rhett wasn't sure how to look at his wife. He was used to soothing her and calming her during her nightmares and various crises, but he'd never allowed her to see him in such a state. How would she view him, now? How did he view her, now?

He really looked at the woman sitting across the table from him. Her eyes still flashed and her chin still jutted, but in different ways. Was the selfishness replaced by compassion and the petulance by patience? Not entirely, but he preferred that she still have some selfishness and petulance, because they helped her when he was overbearing and cruel.

"About what happened there…" he said.

She smiled gently at him. "You needed me," she said. "You were remembering something horrible, and you needed someone who could comfort you."

"I needed you," he echoed. "Yes, I needed _you_."

"I wish I could have been there then," she said, "but of course my parents hadn't even met yet."

"I wasn't there when you needed me most," he said bitterly. "I caused that pain and left you alone to deal with it."

She sighed. "I've learned a great deal from it. Didn't you, when your family treated you so horribly?"

"I think what you've learned is far more valuable than what I learned, Scarlett."

"You were here today when I needed you."

"I want to be here from now on. So much has changed in the last few months. I understand so many things better about myself, and I'm learning so much about you."

The baby woke and fussed in the cradle. Rhett went over and picked her up, adoring her at the sight of her sweet face. "I think she needs to be changed."

Scarlett got up, but Rhett said, "No, let me." He hummed to the little girl as he took care of her diaper, getting new out of the bag Scarlett had brought with her clothes and putting the used into a basin set out for that purpose. Scarlett sat on the sofa again, unfastening herself to feed the child, and now Rhett sat next to her, cooing to the baby.

He handed her to Scarlett, and as Scarlett helped the baby start, he whispered it again. "I love you."

Scarlett looked at Rhett and back at the baby again. "I'll never get between the two of you. I promise I'll always let you have as much access to your children—to any of my children—as you and they want."

"Scarlett, don't pretend you don't know it's you I love." He patted the child's head and then tipped Scarlett's chin to face him. "Of course I love Melanie. She's like her namesake. It's impossible not to love her. But Scarlett, I'm saying this for you. I love you as I've never loved any woman, and now I'm prepared to be the husband I was too scared to be, before."

She took a deep breath. "I shouldn't let you do this."

"Why not?"

"I shouldn't let you be tied to me, because you wander, because you'll always be looking for things you can't possibly find in one single place. You've proven it over the last few years."

"That's not what I've proven at all."

"Haven't you said that you've found all the things you were looking for, in different places?"

"Yes, and I've found all of it in one or two places. More importantly, it never belongs to me. I can't have it."

"Don't you have to keep looking, then? Shouldn't I let you go to find it?"

"It's not for me in any of the other places. It's for me here. You have become the world I was looking for, filled with charm and grace and even dignity, Scarlett. Now I'm building things and filling my life with truer forms of beauty because I'm inspired by you. I don't want to go. The center of my world is right here in this house today, because this is where _you_ are, Katie Scarlett O'Hara… Hamilton… Kennedy… _Butler_."

"But is that enough, Rhett?"

"What else is there?"

The baby wasn't very hungry this time and went to sleep. Scarlett put her in the cradle and covered her with a light blanket.

"How can you stay, knowing that you're going to hate me and want to leave?"

"Because I'll also love you and _want_ to stay. Right now I want to stay more than I've ever wanted to go, Scarlett."

Scarlett was standing in the middle of the room, hands on hips. "Don't you do that to me, damn you. Don't you tell me that… not if you're going to look at me like that."

"I'll tell you I love you any way I damn well please."

"How do I know you even mean it? How do I know your love won't die this time?"

"Because it's the same love that never actually died. It just had to grow and become truer. If you knew anything about me, you would know that."

As they stood glaring at each other, Scarlett's face hurt and Rhett's impassive, the room grew quiet. And then from the cradle, a giggle was heard. They looked at each other and then toward the crib. They tiptoed over and looked down, and saw that Melanie was laughing in her sleep. Scarlett fixed the blanket, which the baby had kicked off. "It's probably just gas," she said in a much softer tone than a moment before.

Rhett smoothed the wispy hair on the baby's head and lowered his voice, too. "I think she's telling us it will be fine."

"You're the baby expert now, then?"

"Fathers have a special sense of their daughters," he said.

Scarlett rolled her eyes and faced Rhett again. "I can't live like I have been the past few years. Not anymore. I've proved that I can't be left like that again. Doctor Meade said I might have killed myself on the train to Charleston. He asked me what if I'd had a stroke and died and when I got there no one would know who I was. My identification wouldn't have led them to you, it would have led back to the house in Atlanta, and _Wade_ would have had to come for his mother's dead body, my fifteen year old son. He and Ella would have been orphans, and Jerry never would have remembered me, and the baby I was carrying would have died, too."

He went cold at the idea of it. His world would have shattered on the train and he might never have known until after the funeral. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to comfort you, Scarlett, I'm sorry that you had reason to be in such a state. This spring has changed us both. Now I don't think I could stand to be away from you, knowing that it could happen."

"I don't know…"

Rhett ran a hand up Scarlett's forearm. She didn't pull away, so he stepped close and put his arms around her. "Let me spend my life showing you that we can do things differently, Scarlett. That I can stay with you even when we're angry with each other, that I can love you and stand up for you when the old guard tries to hurt you. Send me to your mills and gins when you need a second person to strong arm your managers. Show me what's next in your business plan and let me help you achieve it. Throw your balls and parties and dance every tune with me. Wake me when you have your nightmares. Let me love you. Stay with me, my dear, my _very_ dear Mrs. Butler." He kissed the top of her head.

"I don't know." She shook her head.

He tightened his hold of her. He could feel her softening in his arms, just as she had done on the day of Frank's funeral. "Say you'll marry me, damn it, or—"

"We're already married," she pointed out.

"Your priest has been catechizing me in the tenets of your faith. It turns out we may not be married in the eyes of the Catholic Church."

She pulled back. "Are you saying we have to get married again?"

"Will you?"

"I—I had no idea, I can't imagine…" A cunning look came into her green eyes and suddenly he knew she _was_ imagining it, a proper wedding in a church, with just their small family if the old guard wouldn't come.

He smiled with amusement in spite of the importance of the moment. "Let your imagination run wild, my pet. We can afford it," he said. "Will you?"

Suddenly she shook her head a little and was serious again, considering the situation as it was. "Is this really what you want, Rhett? Me and only me for the rest of your life?"

It still could fall apart, and he went sick at the thought. This was the moment that would decide it all, and he focused everything on her. "You and just you, Scarlett. And just me. Beyond that, our children as well. Marry me. Let me love you." He watched her look up at him with a curious expression on her face.

She traced around his eyes with her hand. "You're looking at me like a cat at a mouse hole," she said quietly. Then she smiled softly and slid her other hand up toward his neck.

"Yes."

* * *

"Why?"

"Why what?"

She was sitting on his lap on the sofa, and they had stopped kissing for just a moment. Right now she was tracing the lines of his face.

"Why did you say you will marry me?"

"Right now, or before?"

"We seem to be going backwards through our life today, so start with now and then tell me about before," he said indulgently.

"Part of it is the same," she said thoughtfully. "You used to have this look, as though you were a cat watching a mouse hole. It always made me nervous, and then you stopped doing it and that was almost worse. When Melly told me you loved me, I realized that was why you looked at me that way."

"Let me get this straight. You're deciding our entire future on the basis of me watching you like a cat at a mouse hole."

"Be serious, Rhett. You know you're an awfully good poker player."

And now he understood why she looked at him so intently all this past month, why she'd put him off, and perhaps why she'd never had the chance to understand all these years. "You had no idea what I was thinking or feeling because I hid it so well."

"You're very hard to read."

He squeezed her and said, "Suppose you ask me more often and I'll be more honest."

"I will if you will."

He stopped kissing her again to ask again. "Why did you say yes the first time? I never felt as though I had the complete answer."

"I _was_ fond of you, and you know your money didn't hurt in the least."

"That much we established."

"It was the way you were kissing me."

"So you _were_ 'swept away by my ardor.'"

"No—maybe."

He chuckled. "Which was it?"

"When you kissed me, I couldn't think of anything but you and how I just wanted to be in your arms and no where else ever again. You were right that Ashley was the reason I didn't want to do it, but when you kissed me like that, Ashley didn't exist and I just _had_ to marry you. Something deep inside me said yes."

It occurred to him that if there had been more kissing in their early marriage, things would never have come to this pass. Then he realized that they were both foolish enough to have let it get someplace similar enough that it probably didn't matter.

 _A/N:Thank you so much to all the readers and reviewers, including **gabyhyatt, TheFauxGinge, COCO B, kanga85, Truckee Gal, , Asline Nicole, Melody-Rose-20, breakfastattiffanygs, WhitmanFrostFiend,** **Romabeachgirl1981** , and **Phantom710.**_


	36. Chapter 36

_The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

Rhett held his breath during the ride from the train station in Atlanta to Peachtree Street. Pork slowed the horses as they turned into the drive, and Scarlett gasped.

"What happened to my house?" she asked Rhett.

"Our house," he whispered.

"It's—"

He waited while she looked, shifting her weight to see it around trees as they wound up the drive.

"It's—"

He nodded his head.

She started again. "Well, I have half a mind to go back to the train station. We didn't discuss this in the least, Rhett Butler."

"It just happened. I was looking at it, and then I was talking to the builder and the architect, who both had so many ideas."

Pork pulled the carriage up under the new porte cochere. They got out and walked into the house, where the servants were waiting to greet Mrs. Butler and meet the new member of the family.

Wade was waiting by the stairs. "Did you approve of this?" Scarlett asked him.

"It's good, Mother, and everyone in town is talking about it. They think it's much nicer than it used to be and Aunt Pitty thinks it's romantic that Uncle Rhett would rebuild the house for you while he waited for you to get better."

Scarlett made a tsking sound. "Oh, Pitty," she murmured. She turned and looked at Rhett, who was smiling at her like the cat who'd _caught_ the mouse. "Of course you know it's better."

"I had to make the outside look as beautiful as you've made it look inside," he replied. "See how much more light gets into the house without those second floor verandas." He took the baby from her and offered her his arm to go upstairs.

"It is much nicer," she said, looking lovingly around the house. In some ways, it was one of her children, a product of their marriage.

They got to the second floor, and Rhett let her go ahead of him. She opened the bedroom door and stopped short. "What have you done?" she asked.

"It's the only room you never got to, and I am not going to decorate it without you."

"So you left it empty?"

Rhett stood beside her, looking at the walls with fresh primer on them. The only thing in the room at all were two portraits, the one of Psyche finding Cupid. She stood in front of the other. It was of Cupid and Psyche after the tests.

"They look happy."

"They finally are. They _both_ worked on the tasks, and then Cupid arranged for her to become a goddess herself."

"And now they can be happy together?"

"Yes."

"Is his hand on her…"

"At least they're wearing clothes in this portrait. Most of the ones in Paris weren't so modest."

"I suppose, since it's for our bedroom." She looked around the empty room. "I suppose you're right, although we had some nice memories in this room."

"Horrible ones, too."

"Well and good, but where will we sleep?'

"I love your practical mind. Come with me, Mrs. Butler."

They went into the room that became his after Bonnie was born. He'd had minor changes done to this room, such as softer curtains and counterpane. The cradle Gerald had used was placed just as it had been in the other room, now for Melanie.

Scarlett walked over to the landscape Rhett had bought in Paris two years before. "This is lovely."

He looked at it, a passenger boat travelling up the Hudson River. "I used to miss the ocean when I was at West Point. I would stand just about where the artist must have stood when he painted this. It wasn't _my_ river, but it was close enough."

"It reminds me of Saratoga."

"You probably went right past here when you went to Saratoga."

"It was pretty there, in its way. I wouldn't mind going again."

"If your plans go through, we're likely to be up north for much of next summer. We could include a week or two in Saratoga. It's not like Georgia, of course."

"Never like Georgia. You know that, Rhett."

She stepped over to the mantlepiece, where the cup was sitting on the repaired saucer.

"You had it fixed?"

"It took a while to find a craftsman who understood what I wanted done with it, but I showed him how the cup had been repaired, and he was able to match the gold and add it to the cement when he fixed the saucer."

"Did they tell you how I destroyed so many of your pretty things?"

"I blame myself."

Scarlett tilted her head down but tilted her eyes toward him. "I blamed you too, at the time, Rhett. I never touched the saucer, but it fell off the shelf when I was particularly violent. It fell on that chair and then dropped to the floor, where it broke into those two pieces. I felt like that must have been a sign, that we were too broken like you had said before."

"It didn't shatter, Scarlett, and now it's been fixed, just like the cup. I was wrong about mended things. They can be just as beautiful as things that were never broken. More so, because the unbroken things were probably never really used, but the things we mend are the things we love and care enough to keep."

* * *

They fell into something like their previous patterns, starting by going to the bank and store in the morning after breakfast, with Melanie accompanying her mother. Then they had dinner after Wade and Ella came home from school. Afterwards they spent time helping the older children with such schoolwork as they brought home and played on the floor with Gerald and Melanie, who was starting to notice her various toys spread out around her on the floor. Later in the evening there was supper, followed by some music. The children prepared for bed and were tucked in after that.

Before that schedule could be adopted, the first day home must be gotten through. Scarlett started by having Doctor Meade and young Doctor Dean, who was the nephew of the doctor who cared for Ashley on the horrible night when Frank was killed, come to visit at the same time. The two doctors looked Scarlett over completely, much to her embarrassment, and agreed with Doctor Owen's assessment that she suffered no permanent ill effects from her pregnancy. Doctor Dean added that any injuries that might have happened from her toxic condition would have appeared by this time and that while she should carefully consider any new symptoms she might notice, she was probably perfectly healthy now.

They also examined Melanie and declared that she was just what she should be considering her age. Doctor Dean did note the murmur in her heartbeat and said that he wanted to check it monthly and had the names of several doctors near the teaching universities in the north, who might be able to consult in a year's time.

Both doctors, when faced with Doctor Owens and Father Halloran's statements, agreed that Scarlett's mind was sound and that she posed no danger for herself or anyone else. There was no reason to pursue any action concerning her health. "It was not out of malice that I assembled that file," Doctor Meade told Rhett in the hallway. "If you had seen her in the train station as I did last March—my blood ran cold, Butler. Don't let it happen again."

Rhett nodded seriously. "I will devote my life to preventing it."

* * *

Scarlett prepared for battle in the afternoon. Uncle Henry was coming to discuss her various legal issues. He was shown into the study while Rhett and Father Halloran enjoyed a discussion on the merits of free will versus predestination. They had reached a comfortable level of quiet when Father Halloran finally leaned forward.

"And what have you decided about the state of your life?"

"I can't leave her, and I've convinced her that we need to stay together."

"How much 'convincing' did it take?"

The question made Rhett uncomfortable. "It wasn't like that. I had to show her that I really want to have her in my life, and to be in hers. There was no way to make up for everything or fix it all. We just have to commit to it. The rest of it will take all our lives."

"This is true. How goes your search for all the things you were looking for?"

Rhett looked at the priest and suddenly it occurred to him that Father Halloran knew all along how it would end.

"I had to find all of those things in Scarlett and myself, which you well knew, didn't you?"

"I had a sense it would work that way."

Rhett couldn't decide whether to be angry or simply accept it. Wouldn't it have been better if the priest had just told him that he needed to find the things he was looking for in himself? Would it have been better, given his need to butt his head against whatever was easy? As he thought about it, Scarlett's voice bellowed out from the study.

 _"God's NIGHTGOWN, Uncle Henry! Wade Hampton, where is your father's pistol?_ "

Rhett and Father Halloran looked at each other and stood at the same time. They didn't run back to the study, but they walked quickly. They didn't expect real bloodshed, but it didn't hurt to be safe.

Rhett got into the study first, and saw Scarlett standing behind the desk, her face a pale green color and her hands in tight fists. Henry, who had come into the house looking as though he was there to deal with a difficult child, was currently looking a bit disconcerted.

"What's happening?" asked Rhett.

"She's just being difficult," answered Henry. "She asked to see the list I compiled. Most are very respectable graduates of Harvard who had studied there around the time Charles did. A few come from West Point or Annapolis. They're financially situated such that they're not after the money, they come from respectable families, and they're quite successful in their business now."

Scarlett handed Rhett the list with a trembling hand. "Damned Yankees, every last one," she whispered.

"Why are we having this conversation?" asked Rhett. "I thought it didn't matter."

"But when it might have mattered… It shows what sort of plans they were making behind my back. Damned _Yankees_ , Rhett."

He was reminded of the way her father had called him a damned Orangeman one late night so very long before.

"You know I couldn't put anyone from Charleston or Atlanta on the list," said Henry, soothingly.

Scarlett was not to be soothed. "It doesn't mean you have to put people from Pittsburgh and Chicago on the list!"

"Now Scarlett, be reasonable. Your reputation—"

"Reputation be damned! Why was it so important for you to marry me off, anyway?"

Rhett eased around the desk. He did not like Scarlett's color and as he got closer he saw that she was trembling.

"As bad as you are married to Butler, you were that much worse when you were a widow, always misbehaving. We wanted you to have a husband we could trust—"

"You honestly think you can trust a Yankee more than me!"

Wade showed up in the doorway of the study. Rhett caught his eye. "Could you get Doctor Dean to come back, please?"

Wade nodded and backed out of the room, clearly glad to not be involved.

"Now Scarlett," said Henry.

"Supposing I refused to marry any of them?"

"You would have married one of them, of that we are sure."

"How can you be sure?"

"Scarlett, be reasonable. You've been married three times. You would have married again."

Rhett had been moving closer to his wife, and now stood almost close enough to touch. If she fainted or collapsed, he could catch her easily. Perhaps his nearness would help her. He felt her take a deep breath, and her trembling eased slightly.

"I'm not getting divorced, you know. I'm staying with Rhett."

"That works just as well," said Uncle Henry affably.

Scarlett spluttered for a moment. "After all the advice you've been giving me since last winter?"

Henry smiled. "If you divorced and married a man who would settle down in town and manage your sizable settlement, which we all expected at the time, then Butler is out of our way. If Butler remains married to you, then his considerable wealth is still very much invested in Atlanta. Atlanta wins either way." He chuckled delightedly.

"Damn you, Uncle Henry!" Scarlett rubbed her head. "This was some sort of game to you? Uncle Henry, you're fired."

"You can't do that."

"Can't I?" She turned at looked at Rhett. He reflected that this interview had almost reached her limit.

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be better to continue to use Henry's services for Wade's legacy. There's quite a bit established that would be difficult to redo. Perhaps we should leave Ella's legacy with him as well. It's just a few more years until they come into their money can make their own decisions. We will, however, be interviewing separate counsel for Scarlett's and our other children's business," said Rhett. His own legal matters had long since been under the watchful eye of another firm across town.

Scarlett nodded, clearly resigned to a compromise. Rhett saw Henry out of the house while Father Halloran sat with Scarlett in the study. When he returned, Rhett saw his wife sitting on the sofa, her head in her hands.

"I didn't think he'd back down from the divorce so easily. I didn't realize he was… was…"

"Hedging his bets," said Rhett quietly.

"What does that mean?"

"He made two bets such that one or the other would pay whatever the outcome. It can be an effective strategy."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"Not when your life is the basis of his bet, no."

Rhett sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. "He won't be interfering in your life any more, at least."

"No."

Father Halloran cleared his throat. "Scarlett, Rhett, do I understand that you intend to continue your marriage, then?"

Scarlett nodded, and Rhett said, "Yes, that's what we plan. We understand the need to have a wedding in church."

"Plan is the correct word for it. Let me outline what we will need to do."

By the time Doctor Dean arrived with Wade, there was an outline for the new wedding and what would need to be done to prepare for it. Scarlett had stopped trembling by that time, but her color was still off and she was obviously developing quite a headache. She allowed Rhett to help her upstairs where Doctor Dean considered her symptoms and proscribed rest and changes to her diet for the next couple of days.

 _A/N: There have been one or two fics here where Scarlett has issues with hypertension. That slid right into everything I understand about her, especially the way she gets headaches in the book, so it seemed an obvious pregnancy complication, and now going forward in her life._

 _Thanks to the lovely readers and reviewers out there, including **gabyhyatt, kanga85, Guest 1 & 2, Phantom710, Asline Nicole, abbygale94, Truckee Gal, Melody-Rose-20, Twilighternproud, Romabeachgirl1981, breakfastattiffanygs, ****,** and **COCO B.**_


	37. Chapter 37

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

It had been years since Rhett had accompanied his wife to the dressmaker, but she insisted that he choose the design and color of her gown for this wedding. It might not be the custom, but Scarlett told him she wanted to look as he dreamed her for this event. She said it in a manner that would be called shy in any other woman. Rhett found that he liked the idea. She was sure to be the most attractive woman in any room she entered, but on this day, he wanted everyone in Atlanta to see the woman he had long admired.

While he was at it, he also picked out several other dresses and then looked through the intimate garments. Scarlett blushed as much as she had during similar shopping trips back in New Orleans; she was still reticent about some things. For some reason, Rhett found that added to the attraction. There were some aspects of Scarlett that she kept hidden from everyone except himself. Her physical modesty was the most ladylike of her attributes, perhaps the only one. As long as she forgot she was a lady in their private rooms, he was prepared to encourage her modesty outside of their home.

He hadn't updated his own formal wear in years, not seeing any reason to purchase any, and spent some time at the tailor selecting a new suit for himself, with accessories to match his wife. He looked through other gentlemen's fashions as well, making additions to his own wardrobe. For some reason, there was almost as much anticipation as there had been before the first wedding between them.

The flowers would be more difficult. Orange blossoms would not be in season, so he selected hothouse roses and gardenias. The florists in Atlanta were able to source enough for him to decorate both the church and the ballroom of the house, lending their ambiance and a heady scent to the festivities.

Scarlett, for her part, spent the time before the wedding going through all of the account books with vigor. After several days of checking the numbers and cross checking her various books, she was satisfied. "It's much better since you came back to Atlanta, of course," she told Rhett that evening in the parlor. "You do make things come out the way they should."

He smiled and put his arm around her, "It's easy enough when it's laid out so well by someone who knows what she's doing."

* * *

An easy intimacy was between them now that they had been forced to confront so many things about themselves and each other. They'd accepted it all, and although they hadn't quite understood or forgiven every single thing yet, they were comfortable with the honesty and trust that they had started to rebuild.

Physical intimacy was so far confined to kisses and holding each other. Although they shared a bed, they were not physically intimate, yet. Scarlett couldn't understand the reasoning, but Rhett smiled and said they should wait until after the wedding. "It's only a few weeks, now," he said.

Scarlett fumed. "It's not as though we're any less married than we were last Christmas, or when we had Gerald, or… Bonnie."

She had a point, but Rhett had a strange sense that it might be better if they waited. "Don't you think a full break, until the time we've made this new vow to each other, will be worth it?"

Scarlett wasn't ever good with intangible things, but she could grasp this well enough to agree, although half-heartedly.

One night had proved the exception to that, after a day when many things went wrong. Something had gone quite amiss at the store. Scarlett spent several hours trying to find over one hundred dollars, only to realize that the discrepancy was due to a sale that had never been completed and the inventory in question was still in the back room. As a result, Scarlett's order for the month was higher than the store could afford and Scarlett would have to draw on other funds to cover it. Wade and Ella both had difficult days at school and snapped at the dinner table. Gerald was teething, and Melanie set in with colic. Rhett got sarcastic when Scarlett started to scold, and the family was out of sorts that evening before bedtime.

Rhett was awakened by Scarlett's nightmare. She rarely had them when they were in the same bed, but she had gone to bed troubled in mind and heart. He heard her crying and moaning and pulled her close. "My love, I'm here," he whispered. "I'm here."

For several minutes he soothed her until she finally came out of it. "Oh," she said, "I thought I was back at Tara, and they were showing me all of your wedding plans with _her_. I thought I'd lost you."

"No, Scarlett, my dear, I'm right here. I'm with you and I'm not going anywhere. You're the only wife I've ever wanted, the only woman who could possibly be my wife."

She had started kissing him then, softly, then deeply, then passionately. Rhett responded in kind. There was no stopping what came next. There was no reason to stop. They had been waiting because it suited them. Tonight it suited them not to wait. He let her set the pace and met her frenzied movements with his own increasingly rapid ones. When it was over, he pulled her close protectively and she clung to him.

"I love you," she whispered. "I can't do without you."

He kissed whatever he could reach of her head, her hair, her eyes, her forehead. "I love you," he answered, "and I need you, too."

* * *

The first Sunday in November dawned beautifully. Scarlett got up early and went to early morning Mass. Most of the decorating of the house had taken place on the days before, but Rhett oversaw the final arrangements later in the morning. They would exchange vows in the afternoon followed by a party that afternoon and a ball that evening.

Scarlett came home and the family sat down to a relaxed breakfast. Rosalyn was in Atlanta for several weeks and barely put down the baby except when Rhett demanded the privilege of being the child's father. Scarlett complained that the only time they let her have the baby was when she was hungry, but in truth she was quite busy at the moment. The cotton gins were going night and day now, the store was preparing to ramp up for the Christmas season, and of course the wedding plans were pressing. If other family members wanted to be with the child, for hours at a time, she let them, knowing little Mell would always come back to her. As mother of the groom, Rosalyn sat at the head of the table and engaged the entire family with stories of Rhett's youth mixed with directions to the children for the rest of the day.

After breakfast, Rhett walked Scarlett up to their bedroom, which they'd finished furnishing that week. The room had been painted in restful hues of green and blue and the linens were of similar hues. The furniture was sturdy but delicately carved, made to look lovely but last for years. They hadn't stayed in the room yet but would on this night. Scarlett would use the room to dress today while Rhett used the room that was thought of as his.

He kissed her at the door. "I'll see you in a couple of hours," he said.

"Do we really have to do this?" she asked.

"Yes, we do," he answered. "I can't wait to see you. I know you'll be beautiful."

"You do run on, Captain," she murmured, flashing her dimples.

* * *

Eventually the moment came when Rhett found himself standing next to Father Halloran at the altar rail of the church, adjusting and readjusting his gloves. Ella, Gerald, and Melanie were on the bride's side of the pews, each in more elegant finery than they'd ever experienced before. Wade was currently standing to Rhett's left as the best man. As Rhett watched, Suellen walked in and took her place as matron of honor.

Suddenly the organ changed tunes and everyone stood to see the bride. Rhett Butler had many ways of smiling, from sarcastic leers to full bellied laughter, but his guests today got a glimpse of full happiness and delight on his face. One could just about see the emerald toes of her slippers, above which was a full-hooped skirt of silk shantung in the color of the emeralds around her throat. The organdy overskirt and lace trim were the color of her eyes. The basque, which cut across her collar bones to puffed short sleeves, was made of the same fabrics. It wasn't the most fashionable silhouette, having been copied from a Worth design of perhaps a full decade before, but it suited the woman and the occasion, providing a certain drama as the bottom ruffle of the skirt brushed against the pews on both sides. Upon her head was a hat in similar shades of green with a short veil that did not hide her smile, the counterpart of his. Scarlett was as beautiful as he envisioned, simply radiant.

He caught a glimpse of his mother, wiping her eyes as she divided her attention between her daughter-in-law and her son. She had told him that she was proud of him today and had brought Rosemary's congratulations. So far Thomas hadn't responded to Rhett's letters. The first had been a personal letter, but the second would be from his attorneys.

At his side, Wade was whispering, "I will take her with me to Boston if you don't do right by her."

"I'll help her pack myself if it comes to that," Rhett responded out the side of his mouth.

Scarlett reached the altar rail and handed her flowers to her sister. Then she placed her hand within Rhett's elbow. Father Halloran beamed down on them and quietly asked, "You're both still decided upon this?"

Scarlett never took her eyes from Rhett's as she nodded her head, and Rhett barely glanced away from her to the priest as he answered, "We are."

Father Halloran cleared his throat and used a voice that would carry to the back of the church. "We will begin by asking your consent. Rhett Kennesaw, will you take Katie Scarlett for your lawful wife?"

"He looked down at Scarlett, whose face was full of wonder and said, "I will."

"And Katie Scarlett, will you take Rhett Kennesaw for your lawful husband?"

He felt a thrill go through her as she clearly said, "I will."

The vows were said next, and their rings were exchanged. At some point they knelt for the final blessing, after which they stood and Rhett was given leave to kiss his bride. His hands trembled more than he would ever admit to as he lifted the veil and then cupped her face, leaning down to place a gentle kiss upon her lips that neither would forget even on their death beds. The organ played again, signifying that it was time for them to walk back down the aisle. He stood just inside the door, to the left of Scarlett so that he could put his left arm around her waist and both would have right hands free to shake.

It was done now, and although it might not have seemed much different than their wedding in city hall, there was _something_ different about this wedding. Rhett ignored the spiritual questions and decided it was due to the differences in the two of them. They both admitted to loving each other and were therefore free to do so in ways they had not been before. This exchange of vows signified the fact that they had developed in new ways and that their marriage had as well.

After the guests had gone outside, Scarlett and Rhett got into their waiting carriage and went to their house, where the monthly party for the old guard had never been so grand. Even the wrought-iron fence was festooned with bunting, and the house was brimming with flowers and other decorations, leading guests up to the ball room, where tables were currently set up around the edges for dinner.

Scarlett and Rhett took some moments to refresh themselves as their guests moved through the house to the third floor ball room. Rhett returned to her room to see that she was feeding the baby. "I had to do this sometime," she said. "With any luck, it will be hours before she wants me again."

"Don't you want to hear what they're all saying upstairs? Everything is so beautiful, and they're no doubt praising the decorations to the skies."

"Fiddle dee dee. You know as well as I do that's not what they're talking about. I'd just as soon let them get some of the worst gossip out of the way when I'm not listening to it."

He sat in a chair opposite to her and they enjoyed a moment of domestic happiness.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, today."

"When you speak, Captain Butler, I never know whether to believe you," she answered airily, her eyelashes fluttering like a butterfly wing.

He threw back his head and laughed. "No doubt I deserve that, but I mean it genuinely, Scarlett. I won't say everything I want is in this room, because our other children are out there in the house, along with our family and friends. Still, Scarlett, you're the center of it all, whether you're dressed like a queen as you are now, or feeding chickens while wearing patched muslin and barefoot out at Tara. What I see is the fire and vigor of life within you, something that doesn't change if your clothes are different or even if you've been picking cotton for weeks, although in this gown you are beyond words."

"Rhett," she whispered, and he could see she couldn't say any more. A tear slipped down her cheek even as she smiled at him, so he got out his handkerchief and gently dabbed it away.

It was fitting that the most lavish party ever thrown at the Peachtree Street house would be a celebration of the marriage of the owners. It was also oddly fitting that the guest list should include all of Atlanta's finest families as well as a few from Charleston. If it was odd that the Atlanta guests treated the Charleston guests like losers in some sort of competition, Scarlett and Rhett were never made aware of it. They did the tasks required of a host and hostess but otherwise stayed within the circle of their family.

During the dinner, Rhett played the enamored swain and brought Scarlett a plate. She likewise pretended to be a belle at her first picnic and complained that she couldn't possibly eat a bite.

"You'll eat it," he averred. He leaned over her until his mustache tickled her ear. "You'll need your strength, Mrs. Butler."

Scarlett's eyes got wide, but they sparkled brightly. "Mind you get a plate just as full for yourself, Captain Butler," she replied. He laughed and then went to get his dinner.

At some point the dinner was over, and the musicians signaled that they were ready to begin, and Rhett led Scarlett to the head of the line. Although they weren't the most romantic of songs, certainly not in the centennial year of the republic, they started with "Dixie" for the reel and "When this Cruel War is Over" for the waltz to follow, just as it had been at the bazaar where they had first danced. A light came and went in Scarlett's eyes as she sang the words for him, just as she'd done before.

 _Dearest one, do you remember  
_ _When we last did meet?  
_ _When you told me how you loved me,  
_ _Kneeling at my feet?_

"I wasn't kneeling in our bedroom this afternoon, but I will if you wish it," he said.

She shook her head. "I don't believe we need that, today at least," she answered. "I recall being so scandalized by everything you did and said that night."

"What are you thinking tonight?"

"That I love you."

"And I love you," he answered, bending down to brush his lips over hers.

"Rhett!" Scarlett's eyes were scandalized, looking to see if anyone was watching them. Several people were speaking behind hands and fans, but they'd been doing that all night.

"Have you forgotten we're married?"

"But still—"

"Just how much reputation do you have left, and do you want to keep it over something like this?"

Her green eyes flashed up to him and she shook her head. He started to lower his again. "Surely we can wait a little longer?" she asked. "The song is almost over and we'll have to dance with our guests."

Rhett looked around the room. "Ah yes, Rene Picard, Hugh Elsing, and the rest of them all will want to dance with you. Whomever will you choose first?"

Scarlett looked around the ballroom until she saw her eldest. "Wade, of course, followed by Gerald. And you will dance with your mother?"

"Yes, followed by each of my lovely daughters."

Some time later, after more dancing, after more refreshments, after bidding farewell to their guests and putting the children in bed, Scarlett and Rhett were finally alone. Hand in hand they walked into their new bedroom, where the sheets had been turned down and the lamps lit.

 _Scarlett had asked Rhett, earlier in the week, whether he wanted her to go to their room ahead of time to perhaps put on one of the nightgowns he'd recently selected. He'd shaken his head and said no._

 _"Lovely as that dress is, you're unlikely to ever wear it again. I intend to examine it very closely and remove it myself, Mrs. Butler."_

 _"But the nightgowns are so beautiful, too."_

 _"You'll wear each of them many times for me, and if I want to see one of them on Sunday night, I can always put it on you." The wolfish leer he gave her belied that idea entirely._

The bedroom door shut with a click, but neither heard it. At some point during the evening, many of the flowers that had decorated the ballroom had been moved to this room, giving the same essence to it. Rhett and Scarlett didn't really notice it, however. They were too busy looking at each other. A moment later they were kissing. Within the hour they rediscovered the joy they had in each other. By the end of the night they found many new joys to experience and explore in the future.

 _A/N: I can't believe we're almost done! Thanks so much to everyone for reading and reviewing, including **gabyhyatt, Laina Lee, COCO B, Truckee Gal, Melody-Rose-20, kanga85, Romabeachgirl1981,** **Asline Nicole,** and **Guest.**_


	38. Chapter 38

_Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns._

 _A/N: I hope it's not stalker-ish that I often check out the favorites lists of the readers who comment or add my stories to their various lists. I've found some good reads that way. I also notice a lot of us are fans of Once Upon a Time. Has anyone else been watching Manifest and wishing they'd just give a sword to Josh Dallas and let him settle a few things with it?_

* * *

Alice Davies walked through one of the promenades of the public park in Saratoga Springs as she had done every day for the last week. Her job as a teacher and headmistress in Hartford enabled her to live with a certain amount of modest grandeur, and her late husband's investments paid for a nice long summer vacation. She'd had a terrible time in Charleston last year in which her expectations had come to nothing, but it wasn't the first time she'd trusted a Butler brother to get her heart's desire and ended up worse than she started. For that matter, it hadn't been the first Butler brother she had trusted. At least the first brother hadn't actually made any promises, hadn't actually betrayed her trust. Perhaps Saratoga would help to heal her heart.

She heard laughter, a voice that sounded very familiar. Turning her head, she saw what at first she thought was a mirage. Had her longings created what she saw? Under a panama hat she saw a swarthy face and an all-too familiar mustache, all fixed into a roguish grin. She could just about see the shoulders of his elegant linen suit above a tall hedge. Several feet away there was a much younger man whose face was barely visible above the hedge. He was adorable, barely a man, with a mop of curly brown hair and soft brown eyes. They appeared to be looking downward toward whatever was making them both laugh.

Her hands clasped unconsciously to her chest. It wouldn't be a minute before she was upon them. She couldn't avoid it; it was the only way back. What would she say? Could she hope that Rhett was alone, without his wife?

Alice turned the corner of the walk and there they were. The young man, an auburn-haired girl just starting to develop into womanhood, a sturdy boy toddling around, a baby carriage pushed by Rhett Butler, and on his arm one of the most attractive women Alice had ever seen, wearing a shade of turquoise blue that on any other woman would have made the eyes hurt, but on this woman glowed with beauty. The woman had dark hair, startling green eyes, and that magnolia skin every southern mammy used to insist upon, as well as a painfully slim waist.

"Rhett," said Alice, "how perfectly strange to find you here."

Rhett looked startled, then a wisp of a frown crossed his face before he took on a bland sort of look. "How very interesting to find you here, but of course you live in the north, now. Scarlett, my love, allow me to introduce Mrs. Alice Davies, originally of Charleston and more recently living somewhere near here. Alice, this is my wife, Scarlett."

A look passed between husband and wife. His face hadn't shifted in the least, but the young woman seemed to find something in it.

"I'm delighted, Mrs. Davies," said Scarlett, in a soft Georgia accent. She walked forward and took Alice's hand in both of her small ones. "I know Rhett remembers all of his friends from Charleston."

The woman was all that was southern charm, and her eyes glowed with the welcome in her voice. As she took Alice's hand, Alice felt something that was almost _sensual_ wash through her. Any person, man or woman, would want to attach themselves to her, unless they were completely revolted by the sensation. Rhett had found a wife who could do what he did to those he met. Alice swallowed the sputter that threatened to come out. "I'm likewise pleased to meet you, Mrs. Butler," she answered. "What brings you above the Mason-Dixon line?"

Scarlett looped her arm through that of the young man. "My son, Wade Hampton Hamilton, came up to Boston to take the entrance exams at Harvard. We're spending the summer exploring the North, and assuming he is accepted, we will see him settled before classes begin."

Rhett smiled at the way his wife told the part of the story she didn't mind others knowing. While Wade was bent over exam papers, they had spent time at the teaching hospitals of Boston, trying to find out if Melanie's condition required or merited treatment. They stopped in Saratoga for a week on the way to the hospitals in Philadelphia. Rhett, still a bit anxious about his wife, had a doctor in Boston look Scarlett over. So far, the doctors assessed her and felt that as long as she limited salt intake and avoided unnecessary strain, she would be quite healthy.

This trip north had been a means of avoiding strain altogether. Tara was in good hands, the gins and mill were running perfectly well, and even the store had a new manager who seemed to know what he was doing. This unfortunate meeting was not a way to avoid strain, but she was handling it well.

"What a beautiful family," Alice said. "You know there was a time when it looked like Rhett and I might actually get married, way back when we were young." She looked at Scarlett assessingly. "We might have had a child right around your age."

Scarlett looked at Rhett, who dared not indicate what he was thinking on his face. He was too close to wringing Alice's neck for what she was trying to do. Scarlett's eyes flashed and then calmed, like the ocean after an afternoon squall.

Scarlett simpered like the belle she still was at times. "I must admit it would be awkward had that been the case, but Rhett has been such a good stepfather to the children I had with my late husbands that I'm sure I would have learned from his example to be a good stepmother to his."

Rhett wanted to laugh at the way Scarlett treated their marriage as inevitable, even if it meant divorce. He held out his hand, beckoning his wife to rejoin him. Alice's face twisted in agony before she turned to hide it behind her bonnet.

"Scarlett, we need to continue if we hope to get back to the hotel before Mell will want her feeding and nap. You'll want a nap, too, I suspect." His look down at his wife was almost a leer.

"And I know exactly what you hope I'll really want, Captain Butler," she said with a knowing smile.

He couldn't help flashing his teeth in a grin at that one as a chuckle escaped him.

The meaning couldn't be clearer if they'd said it aloud. The two older children rolled their eyes and looked away from the parents. Alice was crushed. She had let Thomas Butler inveigle her into his family's politics, hoping that the dream of her life could come true in the process. Instead, she had come back to Hartford in private mortification. How grateful she'd been not to have posted her letter of resignation, yet!

Thomas, on the other hand, had made certain arrangements based upon his expectation of tapping into his brother's wealth. Alice's mother wrote to her that Rhett had not only prevented Thomas from financial gain, but allowed Thomas' resulting insolvency to ruin him socially. Mother had written that the Rhett Butlers hadn't visited Charleston in a year and a half, but Charleston was eagerly awaiting the day they returned. Alice, attempting her own clumsy gambit of scoring off Mrs. Butler this afternoon, had failed spectacularly.

* * *

The summer passed, and the doctors in Boston and Philadelphia all seemed to agree that young Melanie was thriving. They could not decide whether her heart was in danger or not, but did say that the trip Rhett was planning would not endanger her. It might, rather, invigorate her.

In anticipation of Wade's enrollment at Harvard, a young woman was found through Careen who could act as tutor and companion for Ella. Silvia Avery was a bright young woman, whose parents Rhett had known in childhood and whose grandparents were known to Rosalyn. Silvia had aspirations to go to one of the women's colleges up north, but her family could not afford it. A year or two of work for a family such as the Butlers, followed by hard work and perhaps a scholarship or two, would be sufficient to see her through the education she wanted. Silvia had a teaching certificate and was well qualified to lead Ella through the next two years of education.

In time, Wade's results found them in their travels, and the family celebrated even as they knew there would be a separation in the fall. They went back to Cambridge to find Wade a good boarding house and help him obtain everything else he might need. It was easier and faster to outfit a young man for his education than Scarlett imagined, even in such a heathen world as Boston, and before she knew it, she was standing on the deck of a ship, waving good bye to her son on the pier.

Their first stop was Paris. True to his word, Rhett took Scarlett to the Rue de la Paix. He filled two trunks with clothes for her as well as one for himself. They bought lovely clothes for the children, too, and even sent a box to Boston for Wade. Mr. Worth dressed Scarlett in crimson for the Paris Opera in a gown that draped right around her torso but swirled out to a full skirt. It left quite a bit of décolletage at her neckline as well as very little covering her arms, which were covered in part by her opera gloves. The diamond necklace Rhett gave her when Bonnie was born was around her throat, and he'd purchased a matching tiara which had been worked into cascades of curls in her hair. They saw _Carmen_ that night, and Scarlett was much taken by the performance, never noticing the attention she attracted. The next morning, the hotel manager mentioned to Rhett that there had been quite a bit of interest in his wife. Several people had seen them, and some men had wondered if an introduction was possible.

Rhett suggested a much more modest garment for the next day, which they spent at the Beaux Artes exposition. Rhett took great delight in bringing Scarlett to see many paintings and a few sculptures of Cupid and Psyche. Scarlett hardly knew where to look, since the subjects were barely, if at all clothed in so many of their treatments. She finally told Rhett that she was sure he'd selected the best of the options available.

He found an artist whose style of portraiture suited him and showed him several of the pictures that had been taken of Scarlett on the day of their second wedding. He nodded and asked if it would be possible to sketch Scarlett in person first. He wanted to get the exact shade of her eyes. A sitting was arranged, and since Rhett had the foresight to ask for a day dress to be made using the same fabrics as the gown, the artist was able to copy the colors in the photograph from the original materials if not the gown itself.

After spending almost two months in Paris, the Butlers passed through other parts of France. Rhett showed Scarlett the town where he'd spent the first anniversary of Bonnie's death. Scarlett walked through the grave yard with him and stood in the middle of it, nodding. He'd found a certain peace there, and she agreed. She went into the church and dropped a five franc coin into the alms box in the back, grateful that Rhett had found comfort and hospitality there.

They worked their way across France through Belgium and the Netherlands, and then south through what was now being called Germany. They traveled through the Alps and passed through Switzerland, where Scarlet saw what Swiss architecture really looked like. "I'll never trust anything I see in _Harper's Weekly_ again," she murmured as she hid her face in embarrassment.

They were in Rome for Christmas and spent the winter in places like Florence and Venice. Rhett saw his dream of taking Scarlett to La Scala come true, and she wore the crimson Worth gown again. Now she was able to se La Traviata in full. They had brought Silvia and Ella with them, and when Scarlett turned, unsure of the train of the story, Silvia blushingly explained it to her. Scarlett turned to Rhett and smiled uncertainly at him. She never took her eyes from the stage for the rest of the show, crying at the end as she had over the excerpts she'd heard in Charleston.

She was quiet as they went back to their hotel. She straightened the blankets over Gerald and gave him a kiss, and then gave Melanie a feeding, having been encouraged by all the doctors that it could only help to strengthen her if Scarlett continued it for a few extra months. At last Scarlett was in the bedroom. She sat heavily in front of her vanity. She listlessly took the tiara and earrings off and set them in their case and started removing hair pins.

"Are the children all right?" Rhett asked. He stepped behind her to undo the clasp on her necklace, bending down to kiss the back of her neck as he did so.

"They're a beautiful miracle, as always," she said.

"Something is the matter."

"Am I like her? Violetta?"

"Not at all." He unfastened the hooks of her dress and loosened her corset.

"You wanted—you wanted to pay me or provide for me like that baron."

He sighed. "I never really thought it through. If I ever really wanted that, I don't any more. I just wanted you, Scarlett, in ways I'm still learning."

"I don't want to be like that, Rhett. I don't want to be like her." Scarlett stood up and let the dress fall, then unfastened the front of the corset and set it aside.

"You're miles away from that life." He picked her up and brought her over to the bed.

* * *

They spent the early spring traveling along the Mediterranean, visiting places like Genoa and Monaco and Nice. It was all very glamorous, but Scarlett was starting to enjoy spending more time with the children and was less interested in going out every night than she had been when younger. They explored castles in Spain and sailed from Gibraltar to England. Scarlett smiled as Rhett showed her all over the ship, enjoying his description of his voyages while blockade-running. A few days out from England she became quite ill, and was unable to hold anything down. Rhett engaged a private rail car from Dover to London and requested the hotel's doctor as soon as they reached the city.

Rhett paced outside the bedroom while the doctor completed his examination. "Well?" he asked as the doctor came into the sitting room and put his stethoscope in his bag.

"I'll give Mrs. Butler a moment to come out before we discuss it. It's her health, after all."

Rhett thought the doctor was a bit argumentative, but had to respect him for putting his patient first in his considerations. Scarlett, in any event, did not take long, and came out to the sitting room in her wrapper. She sat next to Rhett and took her hands into his. Glancing at the doctor, she turned toward her husband. "He says it's a baby, Rhett."

They knew it would happen sometime. They should have accounted for it. This was marvelous news in many ways but worrysome in others. He smiled, since there was no question of avoiding it now. Scarlett looked so hopeful and now she smiled, too. "It's going to be a little closer to twenty," she murmured.

He laughed. "We will love them all," he answered.

"I understand this will change your plans, Captain Butler. From what your wife has told me, and I would like to cable for notes from her other doctors, she should be fine. However, I would highly recommend against an ocean voyage until she's delivered the baby next fall."

"Is she in any danger?" Rhett was getting tired of asking this question.

"No, she's in good health and with a few good meals should recover completely from what was probably an aggravated case of morning sickness. She appears to have perked up already after a few hours on dry land. Call me overprotective. Women are often perfectly fine until something unexpected happens, and suddenly both mother and child are in danger. I'm simply hoping to avoid any question that we can avoid. If you were to take an apartment in this neighborhood, I would be delighted to look after Mrs. Butler until her confinement is over."

Despite being in the presence of another person, Rhett couldn't resist putting an arm around Scarlett's shoulders and dropping a kiss onto her head. The doctor soon left, and Scarlett and Rhett were alone. There were many details they would need to sort out. Among them was Wade. They had planned to be back in Atlanta so that he could spend his summer vacation with them. A cable and steamship ticket would sort that out quite quickly. Would they be able to go back to Boston with Wade? What was the timing of this event?

"Did the doctor say when it happened?" Rhett asked.

"He says I'm almost three months forward. That would put us back in Milan. The doctor thinks the baby will be born in late October or maybe November."

They looked at each other, remembering the opera and the other evenings, filled with laughter and dancing. They had seen some beautiful artwork and had fallen in love with the city and, in some ways, with each other all over again. If places were important, they found a beautiful city to conceive a child.

Finding a home for them to live in for the next six months would be important. "It sounds like we're going house-hunting, Mrs. Butler," Rhett said. "What sort of house or apartment would you like to live in?"

"We will need something somewhat large with our whole family in it," she replied, "but really, Rhett, I've learned my lesson. I just want the sort of home you want to live in. Can we find something with all those things you said you wanted to find?"

He pulled her closer and kissed her. "As soon as you're standing in it, whatever house or apartment we find will have everything we need."

* * *

 _A/N: And I fear we're going to have to leave it here. I could probably go on and on, but there are other stories to tell based upon this fandom, and at least one of them is taking over in my head. I realize that not every question is answered here, but I hope I've shown the general direction that would answer most of them. Thanks so much for enjoying this with me. All of you readers and reviewers have been lovely, including_ _**TheFauxGinge, gabyhyatt, Guest, kanga85, Truckee Gal, WhitmanFrostFiend, COCO B, Romabeachgirl1981, Nuala Lady of the Lake, young lavender lady,** **Asline Nicole** , and **breakfastattiffanygs**. I'm going to miss all of our little conversations about this world and it's characters._

 _Thanks to Truckee Gal for finding a couple of typos, which I have now fixed._


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